Come Closer
by Mafsarhet
Summary: Logan and Annika are becoming ever closer.  Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him.  But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches to claim her?
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

"Come closer," King Logan commanded the Princess. "You are a woman now, my dear. Are you ready to truly be one, and perhaps bargain with me for the release of the prisoners?"

This may be a story to be continued, or it may end up standing alone as a one-shot. The rating is only listed for possible future chapters. If no future content is forthcoming, the explicit adult content warning does not apply. However, the theme of incest, does. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned!

**Come Closer**

"Come closer," Logan said, casually sitting in his throne, leaning to one side, looking every inch a confident ruler. And a cocky and arrogant man. He and his sister, the Princess Annika, were alone now. He had ordered his men to take Elliot and the rebel protestors to the prison so that he and the Princess could speak alone.

He leaned forward now, stroking his bearded chin thoughtfully. "So, you want to save the rebels and that boy? Very well, you shall have your chance. You are no longer a child, so I'll not treat you as one."

Annika swallowed hard as she saw Logan, the sibling she had never had a brotherly relationship with due to the fact that he spent had his formative years being groomed to rule Albion, take in the site of her. She wore her casual gown, with its short skirt, form-fitting leggings, and practical shoes. Logan's gaze swept slowly up and down her body, lingering and appraising, and finally squarely met her nervous gaze.

"You are a woman now, my dear. Are you ready to truly be one, and perhaps bargain with me for the release of the prisoners?"

Her mouth went dry. Bargain? What could she possibly offer him?

"I...yes, Logan. But...what sort of bargain?"

"Come closer," he said again, and Annika slowly approached him until she could have touched him had she extended her arm. He swept his dark intense gaze up and down her body once more and Annika shivered. Did he...want her?

If so, it was not right! Or...was it not so wrong? In the past it had not been uncommon for royal brothers and sisters to marry, but that was no longer done. He had not mentioned marriage, but his gaze and appraising looks were implying that he wanted her to bargain with her body.

Could she do such a thing if that was what he demanded of her? She loved Logan; she always had. But...as a brother? Not if she was honest with herself, as they had not been raised as such. They had spent much time apart, and when they had been together it was as close friends. He had always been kind, trustworthy, and noble, but not much like a older brother to her. Their daily lives and studies were very different. They didn't even look alike. It was difficult to believe that they shared one parent, much less two.

But during the past several years Logan had slowly changed from a kind, noble, and even fun-loving man to one who was constantly weary, short-tempered, extremely driven, and vigilant to every detail of his Kingdom to the point of obsession. He had no women, or men for that matter, nor any apparent interest in them. He was every inch a King, even if he had become a less than benevolent one.

"What sort of bargain?" Annika finally asked, her voice trembling despite herself. "What could you possibly want of me? What could I offer you, the King?"

Logan smiled and reached for her hand. His grip was firm, but surprisingly gentle.

"Do you love that boy? Have you lain with him?"

Annika gasped in shock and reflexively attempted to withdraw her hand, but Logan held it tightly, even beginning to stroke the back of it with his thumb.

"Well, Annika, do you, and have you?" His eyes bored into hers and suddenly Annika felt that she had to be truthful with him.

She shored up her courage and returned his intense gaze. His handsome, albeit scarred face, suddenly betrayed intense anticipation of her reply.

"I...I don't think I love him," she admitted. "I do care for him a great deal, but I have not lain with him." And when she saw Logan's lips curl into a smile, she couldn't resist adding, "Not yet."

That made his smile vanish. Then he pulled her even closer to him until she was standing between his legs. "Have you lain with any man, then, my Annika?"

Why was he asking her such things? Annika inwardly sighed. She knew why. He _was _interested in bargaining for her body, and he was assessing how he would go about it.

So why did she suddenly feel a surge of confidence? She had seldom felt confident in his presence ever since he had been crowned King. He had exuded raw power and competence from the very moment the crown adorned his head. Why now did she feel that she was, if not his equal, at least nearly so? And why did she suddenly feel...womanly? Even attractive and alluring?

Elliot had been courting her for almost a year, but Annika had still viewed himself and her merely as young adults, not true adults. She saw Elliot as a boy still, and not the young man he assuredly must be. And she certainly had never considered herself a woman grown. Until now.

And now, at this very moment, Logan was eying her carefully, and not just physically, she sensed, but mentally and emotionally. Logan had never trusted appearances, but had always delved into the psyche of every person he met. He made an art of dissecting the nature of individuals and thus, knew how to deal with them accordingly. He either persuaded them to his way of thinking, or he played upon their fears and doubts. If that failed, he could, and recently had, imprisoned or killed them.

How did he now see her; as a woman who had the capability of not only being strong and beautiful, but also his equal? Or was he attempting to manipulate her? He was an enigma to her now. And he had dared to ask her if she had ever laid with a man!

Annika frowned at him even as her body began to tingle all over from the sensation of his warm and calloused thumb caressing her hand. His eyes still held hers, and a strange heat began to coil in her belly. It was a sensation completely unfamiliar to her, but it was not unpleasant. She was innocent, but she was not completely ignorant. The sensation was that of desire, and the one who instilled it in her now was her brother and King.

"I very much think that is not your concern, Logan," she finally replied in as even a tone as possible. "How many women have you lain with? Or men, for that matter?"

Logan pulled her closer and smirked. He tugged her into his lap and Annika gasped. She fell against his chest and he embraced her. At first she involuntarily tensed, but his arms were so warm and welcoming that she suddenly felt safe and cherished. She relaxed into him. It felt...right to do so.

"Everything you do is my concern, dearest Annika. You mean more to me than you know." He buried his face in her long red hair and nuzzled her neck, causing gooseflesh to erupt all over her body and that secret place between her thighs to throb.

This was...this was positively scandalous! Logan was her brother! She should never...

_Oh, gods! _she thought, her previous thoughts interrupted as he gently grasped and kneaded her hips. His mouth found a sensitive spot at the base of her throat and he suckled it gently. His breath came hot and passionate as he whispered, "My precious Annika, I don't like men, as you surely know! And women...well...I've had my share, but not for quite some time. None has every truly interested me save one. And that one I have not yet had. And that one, if I can win her heart, I shall keep, love, and cherish forever."

Annika found herself tipping her head back and exposing her throat to him entirely. He trailed small kisses up her neck to her jaw. When she did not protest, his hands left her hips and gently cradled her face. He looked at her, and his expression was, oddly, both intense and vulnerable.

"Logan, I've never lain with any man," Annika whispered, unable to keep to herself a truth that he so desperately needed to know.

"My Annika," he said, his voice quiet and trembling slightly, even though his gaze was steady, "are you willing, truly willing...to bargain for the prisoners?"

"Hmmm?" she asked, having forgotten all about them. "Oh, my!" she gasped, then, acutely ashamed. How could she have forgotten the very reason she was here with her brother now? She tried to turn her head away from Logan, but he held it firmly.

"Look at me, my Annika. It's all right. I'll not force you to do anything you do not wish to do, and surely you know at least a little of how I feel, and a bit more of what I desire. But..." He suddenly shook his head violently and looked horrified by his own behaviour. He groaned and clenched his fists, as though trying to rid himself of his thoughts and desires. "Annika...I...I have erred most grievously. I'll free them all. There is no bargaining for you to make with me for them."

The King of Albion sighed heavily and released his sister. "You may go. You needn't think about this any more." He buried his face in his hands and his entire body sagged. "I'm a fool, Annika. I'm a foolish and desperate man! Please, forgive me. And forget all of this. Just...leave. Please." His voice was more pained than she had ever heard it, and the underlying sadness in it tore at her heart.

Annika stood, but now her entire being was divided between exploring forbidden love and desire, or keeping her chastity and virtue, and the morals modern society dictated, intact.

She did love Logan; and she was very close to loving him completely, as a woman loves a man. She certainly desired him and yearned and ached for what he could teach her. But the agony on his face and in his eyes...

"No, Logan. I'm not going anywhere. We had a deal and I expect you, as the honourable man you are, to fulfill it." The confidence in her was building, even if she did not know from precisely where it was coming. She just...felt it. And she would not allow her brother-friend to collapse in on himself. He had been King for so long, been so tired and so vigilant for so long, that he suddenly seemed on the brink of breaking. Even if she had to use his love for her against him; to manipulate him into remaining strong, she would do so without regret. Even if she had to use her newly discovered womanly wiles to tempt him and bring out the man in him, she would do so.

This was her brother, her King, and a man she cared for and loved.

This was her Logan. _Her _Logan. And she would be damned to any and all Hells before she would leave or abandon him now.

"Annika," he groaned, "please leave! I don't know what came over me, but do not humiliate me further by remaining."

She grasped his hands and wrenched them from his face. Tears streamed from his eyes and, to Annika, he had never looked so lost and forlorn.

"Logan," she whispered, bending down and kissing his forehead, "look at me."

Apparently feeling that he had nothing more to lose, he did.

"Do you mean everything you said? That I mean so much to you? Or was that all just in the heat of the moment, or a way to assess me? Tell me the truth."

Annika found herself desperately hoping, despite all that society had impressed upon her mind as she matured, that Logan meant everything he had said; that he had also meant his kisses, and that he truly did and still desired, and possibly loved her. And not in a brotherly way.

The man before her; the humbled and humiliated man on the throne looked at her through tear-blurred eyes and an expression of deep raw hurt and regret.

"Of course I mean it, my Annika. I'll always mean it." He closed his eyes. "But I'm a fool. I allowed my self-control, and therefore my secret, to slip. I was greedy and desperate. I knew there would likely never be another opportunity for me to try and...to win your..." He stopped. "Annika, do not make me give voice to what I can never have. Please, if you have any pity at all for me left in your heart, do not."

Annika now realised that she did not know everything a woman should about men and women, but she knew enough. She knew enough of her own mind and heart, and knew she could trust them, along with her instincts, implicitly. She now had only to explore a bit further to refine and create solid realities of what her soul already knew. Her mind, heart, and body would catch up in time.

She was almost ready, truly ready, for the Truth. Her Truth, and Logan's.

"Logan, I do not, nor will I ever, pity you."

He looked at her in bald surprise.

She took his face in her hands and pressed her mouth to his, tasting his maleness, his love, his mortification, his hopes and fears, and his guilty desire. After a few moments his tense and salt-wet lips softened beneath hers. Then, with a groan of either anguish or desire, or perhaps both, he pulled her back into his lap and kissed her senseless.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

This may be a story to be continued, or it may end up standing alone as a one-shot. The rating is only listed for possible future chapters. If no future content is forthcoming, the explicit adult content warning does not apply. However, the theme of incest, does. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned!

"Come closer," King Logan commanded the Princess. "You are a woman now, my dear. Are you ready to truly be one, and perhaps bargain with me for the release of the prisoners?"

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 2**

Logan was as good as his word. He released all of the prisoners, but gave them some strict orders that she could not hear. Annika did not know what he said to Elliot, but she did see the youth flush with anger and indignation as he stormed off.

"I never wanted you to see the prison, Annika," Logan said as he joined her at the stairway. He had not permitted her to approach the cells.

"I should see them, Logan," Annika replied. "This is my home, too, remember? All of it; and that includes the ugly parts."

His mouth quirked slightly with wry humour. "Yes," he conceded, "still, there are things I would rather you not...witness."

He took her arm and walked her up the stairs, several guards trailing behind them.

"Logan?"

"Yes?"

"May I accompany you more often?"

He paused and looked down into her face. "What do you mean? I am not leaving. I have no journeys or expeditions planned."

Annika took a deep breath. "What I mean is, may I accompany you as you do your Kingly duties?" She quickly hastened to reassure him, lest he get the wrong idea and she extended her hands palm upwards in a placating gesture. "I have no designs on the throne, so don't even think that! I just...I feel that I need to know what it is like to be a monarch. I need to know the duties and learn..." She swallowed nervously. "I have learned from this morning that there is too much I am ignorant of. I need to learn about...responsibility and accountability. I need to understand more about...you."

Logan's face, which had tensed, now relaxed. However, a slight sadness momentarily flicked across his chiselled features. He took her hands in his and kissed the top of each one in a courtly fashion.

"Annika, let me think on this. I am not saying no, but I need to carefully consider your request."

"That is all I can ask," she replied softly, smiling at the lingering warmth his kiss had left atop each of her hands.

"You can ask far more of me than you know," he whispered to himself. Annika doubted that he knew she had heard him.

* * *

><p>The afternoon arrived and Logan allowed her to sit with him as he poured over what seemed to be endless correspondence and petitions and goodness knows what else. Annika noticed the fierce attention he gave to each document and how his eyes glittered each time he paused to commit a fact or figure to memory.<p>

The secretary, an elderly stocky toady named Willoughby, took extensive notes of everything Logan deemed of import. Logan also handed off certain things to him that he felt Willoughby could handle on his own. Annika could see that her brother was careful to not waste his time on things that were not essential for his personal attention.

She was glad of that. Logan, for many months now, had plainly been utterly exhausted. How he kept up his strength and focus she did not know. But the black circles beneath his eyes and his bouts of ill temper told her that it was beginning to take a severe toll on him.

After four hours and all of the most important matters attended to, Annika placed her hand on his arm.

"Logan," she said softly.

His eyes did not meet hers. He was too absorbed in continuing to work.

"Yes, Annika?"

"May I speak to you alone for a few minutes?"

Logan sighed, but in relief, not irritation. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his knuckles.

"Willoughby, wait outside the room."

The man left and Logan turned to Annika. "You don't need to stay," he said. "I can handle this."

Annika smiled gently. "That's not what I had in mind, Logan. I want you to do me a favour."

He frowned, obviously trying to figure out what she needed. "What can I do for you? Are you bored? Do you need diversion?"

She shook her head and moved behind him and boldly began to massage his shoulders. He stiffened under the intimacy of the touch, but did not stop her. He merely appeared surprised and uncertain of what to do.

"Relax, Logan," Annika wheedled. "Even beneath this coat I can feel that your muscles are horribly knotted!"

"I need to work..."

"Nonsense. It is done, really. There is nothing left that I, or Willoughby, for that matter, cannot handle. Logan, you need relaxation and rest. You will be of no use to anyone if you continue to drive yourself so. Let me help you, even if all I can do is handle a few papers here and there and be by your side for moral support."

Logan tilted his head upward and shot her a sceptical glance, but then he closed his eyes and nodded. Annika felt him consciously attempt to relax beneath her hands as she massaged and kneaded his sore and cramped muscles. Slowly they began to ease beneath her ministrations and Logan dropped his head forward in pleasure. Annika then moved her fingers to his neck and carefully used her thumbs to ease the muscles in the back of his neck down to his shoulders, and then upwards to the back of his head. When she gently removed his crown and tenderly worked on his scalp, he moaned and sighed. Obviously, he had not felt such relief in a very long time.

At last she moved before him and rubbed soothing circles on his temples and forehead. He suddenly pulled her closer and rested his hands on her waist, his eyes still closed. He didn't seem to realise he had even done so. Annika smiled and continued to ease his physical stress. Finally, when she was satisfied that she had done all she could for him, she planted a gentle kiss on each eyelid, and then his forehead.

"Better?" she asked, carefully taking the crown from the desk and replacing it on his head.

"Gods, yes," he moaned. He slowly opened his eyes. When he saw that he was holding her waist he immediately released her.

"I beg your pardon," he said quickly.

Annika had not failed to notice that he had avoided any mention or acknowledgement of what had transpired between them in the Throne Room that morning. She did not press him now, either.

"Don't be a twit," she said teasingly. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head to her breasts, gently and tenderly hugging him to her. "You're my Logan."

She felt him tense as his face was pressed against her breasts, but when he allowed himself to relax he wound his arms around her waist and returned her embrace.

"Thank you," he whispered. She was pleased that he allowed his cheek to enjoy the softness of her body and his arms the feel of her filling them. He pulled her even more tightly to him.

Annika sensed that he had been bereft of affection for so long that he didn't know how to react when he received any. So she welcomed him as he pulled her tighter. She stroked the cheek not against her bosom and rubbed her other hand over his shoulders and upper back.

"I suppose I can't talk you into taking a nap?" she asked him. "I assure you I can handle the rest of this."

He shook his head against her, his nose poking into a breast. Both pretended to not notice.

"It would only be for one hour, Logan," she continued. "Surely the Kingdom won't perish under my Rule over unimportant parchment crap in just one hour!"

To her surprise and relief he chuckled. "You are devious, my Annika. You are deliberately lowering my defences to get your way!"

She giggled and momentarily squeezed him harder against her, before loosening her hold so he could breathe. She did have an ample chest, after all!

"Well, count yourself fortunate that I have your best interests at heart, then."

He pulled back just enough to gaze up into her face. "Annika?"

"Yes, Logan?"

"I can...I can truly trust you, can't I?" It was more of an admission than a question. A flash of vulnerability and something that looked like hope showed in his eyes.

"Yes, Logan," she said, certain that he could see the sincerity in her eyes. He did, for he smiled.

"Very well, then. One hour and not a minute more."

"I'll fetch you myself."

He gave her a tired, but contented smile. "That will do nicely."

* * *

><p>After dinner Annika sat outside in the gardens as she normally did. She always enjoyed reading after dinner and this was the time she could read for enjoyment rather than education. However, tonight she was enjoying reading something educational. She had decided to read a book about past monarchs. What she wanted to know was what sort of King or Queen each ruler had been, and then, if the book did not specify, or the details were not known, why he or she would have been considered a tyrant.<p>

Finally, she realised, she actually dared to think the word. Tyrant. The people were beginning to accuse Logan of being a tyrant. But Annika simply could not believe it. She knew Logan. He was not a cruel man. He had always loved Albion dearly. He also loved his family. He loved...her.

When Logan had first been crowned upon their mother's death the people had loved him. He had continued their parents' good works and the people loved him. Logan had been a fair and benevolent ruler until about four years ago. Then he had changed. He had begun to slowly pass policies that grew increasingly unpopular. He had stopped providing pay rises for the soldiers and began to tax the citizens more heavily.

And Annika knew there would be more changes. There were likely already ones that she did not know of even now. Logan had protected and shielded her from, well...everything. Only today did she seize the opportunity to begin to understand why he had seemingly changed and why he was doing the things he was. She would understand her Logan better, she vowed. He was no tyrant! If he was a tyrant by definition, then there had to be a reason for it. She knew that much in her heart. Logan would not be cruel without very good reason!

But this morning...he had terrified her. He had truly frightened her for the first time in her life. He had been fully prepared to have either Elliot or the villagers executed and make her choose which. And then...everything had become so mysterious. When she was alone with him he had been her dear Logan again. And more. She knew that he was no tyrant...so why was he willing to kill villagers or even Elliot? And he would have; she had no doubt. If she hadn't persuaded him otherwise, either the villagers or Elliot would be dead.

She had to find out why. Not only did she not wish to ask Logan outright, but she knew that he would not tell her even if she did. However, if they became closer, and they were indeed becoming closer by the mutual consent of their hearts and souls, perhaps she could understand and help him. She would stand by him no matter what.

Annika paused in her skimming of the pages. What if it turned out that Logan had indeed changed and was now more evil than good? Even though she did not believe this was true, it was still a possibility she must consider.

"I will stand by and love him even then," she whispered to herself. Her loyalty lay utterly with her Logan. Even evil people needed love and understanding, especially if they were not evil by choice. Besides, she realised, she loved Logan. The nature of that love had still to be fully explored even if she already suspected the various natures of it. Whether he was good or evil, a benevolent ruler or a tyrant, she would not and could not, even if she wished to, stop loving him.

He was her Logan.

"Annika, come away with me, right now!"

The Princess started and dropped the book. Elliot's hand brushed hers as she reached for it.

"Elliot? What did you say?" Surely she had not heard him correctly! She set the book aside.

He seated himself beside her on the marble bench. "I said that I've come to take you away with me. We must leave at once, Annika!"

Elliot's face was desperate and filled with hope. "If we leave at once, he won't notice you're gone until morning."

"Elliot...I cannot leave!"

The young man's dark eyes widened and his lips parted slightly in shock. "Annika, surely you aren't considering staying here after what happened this morning!"

Annika took his hands in hers. "Elliot, I care deeply for you, but I...I cannot leave Logan. Besides, you are alive and so are the villagers! Nothing happened!"

Elliot grasped her hands so tightly that she gasped. "Annika, listen to me. There's something seriously wrong with your brother. He's not the man he used to be. He's become a tyrant and a murderer. He'll only hurt you or corrupt you if you stay with him!"

Annika pulled her hands back in indignation. "That's not true! He didn't murder anyone! And whatever he does he must have a good reason for it. We aren't in his place, Elliot. We have no idea of what he goes through every single day as King."

Elliot looked pained. "Annika," he said slowly, reaching for her hands. He winced when she drew them away from him. "Listen to yourself! You are making excuses for him. I understand that he is your brother and the only family you have left, but he's not safe to be around! He's dangerous! If you had been forced to make that choice..." He broke off, his voice cracking with stress and fear. "How did you persuade him to let us all go free, anyway?"

Annika drew in a deep breath. "I...I'm not sure, really. I spoke with him. I sat with him. Elliot, he's not an evil man. He has difficult choices to make and no-one to stand by him. He does the best he can. I think that when I just let myself...be with him, and didn't judge him, he calmed and released everyone." She was not going to tell him about the 'bargain' she and Logan had almost made, nor about their illicit behaviour.

"He didn't just release us," Elliot corrected her. "He warned us all to never return here. Well, the villagers, anyway. He just told me to stay away from you. He said he didn't want me around you any more. He says that I'm not good enough for you."

Elliot bowed his head when Annika remained silent. She truly did not know what to say. She had no idea that Logan had told Elliot to leave her be. Why would he do that? Surely Logan couldn't believe that Elliot was a bad influence or a corrupt young man!

Or...could he? After all, the two of them had spied upon the proceedings in the War Room. Perhaps he did believe that Elliot could be a spy plotting against him. If so, that would explain Logan's behaviour.

"Annika?" He raised his head. "Please, come with me. I have money and a house we can go to. He'll never find us! I promise to take care of you and make you happy for the rest of your life."

"I...what?" Annika found herself completely taken aback. He was, in a round-about way, proposing to her! Yet she should not have been surprised. Until this morning; before her...passionate time with Logan, she had believed that she and Elliot would someday marry.

But now...

Now she knew that she could not stomach the idea. Elliot was a fine young man. He was handsome and kind. But he simply did not command the respect and regard from her that Logan did. He did not even come close to obtaining the amount of love and loyalty that she helplessly, yet willingly, gave to Logan.

"I...I'm sorry, Elliot. I can't."

Elliot stood, his face flushing with shame and anger. "Then you are not the woman I fell in love with. That woman would see the truth and come away with me before it's too late." He clenched his fists at his sides. "You are already becoming perverted and twisted by him, Annika. I don't know you any more and I don't want to. Good-bye." He turned on his heel. As he walked away he added, "And don't ever try to speak to me again."

* * *

><p>Annika lay in her bed that night and sobbed. She was not in love with Elliot, it was true, but she had cared for him deeply. He had been her best friend for years. And now he hated her. He believed that she was perverted and that Logan was at fault.<p>

She did not need Elliot in her life, but she wanted him to be. She craved his friendship and missed him already. But it was his accusations against Logan that hurt her the most. Surely her best friend could have listened to her and tried to understand! But he hadn't. He had simply labelled Logan a tyrant and herself a woman he never wanted to lay eyes on again.

"My Annika, what is it?"

She could not stop sobbing. In the soft light of a single candle Logan approached her bed. He was still clothed, albeit only in his boots, trousers, and shirt. Why hadn't he been asleep by now?

But she didn't care. He was with her now, and his very presence blanketed her in a comfort that she had thought would be impossible for her this night.

"Logan..." she hiccuped, "Elliot never wants to see me again! He says I'm twisted and perverted and to never try to even speak to him again!"

"Shhh..." Logan said softly, removing his boots. He pulled back her blankets and climbed beneath them, curling himself around her back, cradling her. She snuggled her backside and shoulders against him in an attempt to get closer to him.

"He hates me!' she gasped, all the pain left inside flooding out. "Logan, my best friend is gone forever!"

He put his left arm around her and chastely over the top of her chest, hugging her as best he could. He tenderly kissed the back of her head.

"My Annika, that is not true," Logan said softly and lovingly. "Your best friend and the one who loves you more than anyone and anything, is right here with you."

Annika felt her heart swell with love and hope. Still, the pain of losing Elliot was acute. But if Logan meant what he said, then everything would be all right. Besides, he hadn't he heard her crying? Hadn't he come from a late and busy night just to comfort her?

She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it, not caring that her tears wet it. She was not embarrassed.

She heard him gasp softly, whether by her kiss or her tears, she did not know. But it didn't matter. He was here.

"My Logan," she whispered, "thank you."

"For what?" he asked, kissing her neck and snuggling her closer.

"For taking time away from your duties to...comfort me."

"You are my Annika," he murmured into her hair, as if that explained everything.

And perhaps it did.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

This may be a story to be continued, or it may end up standing alone as a one-shot. The rating is only listed for possible future chapters. If no future content is forthcoming, the explicit adult content warning does not apply. However, the theme of incest, does. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 3**

The day to day 'normal' duties of a Ruler were becoming familiar to Annika. Logan had gradually been allowing her to spend more time at his side as he performed regular rounds of the castle, inspections of the guards to see that they held to his standards, the tedious and ever-present paperwork, and even his own fitness regimen.

On this particular day, Logan did not take up his sword to spar with the trainer when they entered the practice room. He merely shrugged off his outer garb, set aside his crown, and faced Annika.

"Annika, I am not Logan. I am a man who wants to attack and possibly kill you for your gold. I may even want to rape you. You don't know what I intend. You only know that I am your enemy. Now, defend yourself!"

His features took on a fierceness that startled her and his eyes glinted with malice. He launched himself towards her. Annika was taken aback as he hurled himself against her and bore them to the floor.

Instinctively she fought back. She wildly flailed her arms and legs in attempts to dislodge him. He kept her pinned and gave her no quarter. One of his fists seized a handful of her hair to immobilize her head and the other tore at her belt.

Annika shrieked in fear and outrage. Suddenly she was able to wriggle a knee free from his legs and brought it up fiercely into his belly, trying to wind him. He grunted, but did not move off of her. It wasn't enough.

She twisted, thrashed, and finally she slammed her forehead into Logan's face. He cried out as blood spurted from his nose and mouth. Annika used her momentary advantage to shove him off of her and roll atop him. She pressed her forearm into his throat and glared down at him.

"I can crush your windpipe," she panted threateningly, "before you can recover."

He laughed, the sound ragged and laboured, but it was a genuine laugh. "Very good, Annika! You need to practice, but for this first time you did well."

He was no longer her 'enemy' but Logan once more.

She released him and got to her feet, offering him her hand to assist him to his. The trainer silently brought a towel to the King. Logan dabbed at the blood on his face and studied Annika's.

"Good," he murmured, his eyes carefully scrutinizing her, "no pity and no weakness. You did what you had to do."

Annika wanted so badly to rush to him, hug him, apologize...but she knew that he did not want that. He was...teaching her. Yes, he was teaching her. In his own way and at a pace he ticked off in his mind, he was teaching her and preparing her. For what, she did not know. But he was, and she accepted that.

He was still bleeding as he smiled. "Come closer," he said.

She did. He dabbed the towel across his face once more and then, heedless of the presence of the trainer, took her in his arms and kissed her.

His kiss was deep and tender, and Annika felt her knees weaken. He _did _love her! She parted her lips and eagerly allowed his tongue entry into her mouth. He explored her moist cavern with a passion and thoroughness that made her already weakened knees buckle. He held her up, sensing this, but did not end the kiss at that point. He allowed them both to enjoy and savour this precious moment.

Annika had scarcely dared to hope that he would ever kiss her again. But he was, and he was as passionate and strong and manly as she had hoped and needed him to be. And as possessive, if the intensity of his kiss and the gleam in his eyes were any indication. She liked that. He was every inch a man and she found that she liked the fact that he not only loved and desired her, but wanted to possess her.

Slowly, they reluctantly parted, but their faces were still close.

"What was that for?" she teased, knowing her breath was hot and quick. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"Among other things, it was a...reward."

"I want more rewards, then, Logan," she said, and then gasped at her own boldness. She went completely still, fearing what he would think or say.

A corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

"Then earn them. I am a generous man where you are concerned, Annika. Earn them and I'll give them freely and willingly."

"Give me opportunities," she said. It was not a request, but a demand.

"I bend to your will, my Annika," he replied with a bow, his demeanour lighter than it had been in days.

* * *

><p>"Tell me, Annika," Logan said later, as they strolled arm in arm through the corridors of the castle, "tell me what has changed here during the past several years."<p>

She knew he wanted the bald truth and nothing less, so she was determined to be as accurate as she could. What had changed? Surely he did not mean the sentiments of the staff or the people. He meant other things. But what things?

Annika pondered.

"In the past several years," she began, thinking aloud to assist herself. "Well, for one thing, you..." She stopped their walking and faced him. "You took a long journey somewhere and returned with those scars," she said softly. She gently traced her fingertip over the scars on his chiselled face.

Logan closed his eyes and allowed her gentle touches. He even leaned slightly towards them. "Yes, I left and returned with these," he said softly. "But I cannot tell you how I got them, Annika. Not now."

He opened his eyes and looked into hers, his expression soft, yet still intent. "What else?"

"Your...demeanour. Your entire carriage and disposition as King began to change."

"Go on."

"You...you became more distant. You took fewer confidantes. You began to harbour secrets and keep more to yourself."

She looked around them. And...how in the hells had she not noticed this before? All her life the soldiers in and about the castle had been the red-uniformed ones. Now there were others as well. Many of the old and familiar ones were gone. There were new red-uniformed soldiers, but the ones Logan kept nearest to him were the menacing ones in purple and gold with those awful helmets that obscured their faces. He had only recruited and created that unit when he had returned from wherever he had gone to several years ago.

"The soldiers," she whispered. "Many of the old ones are gone and you have new ones. Menacing ones. Ones that are rough and ruthless and conceal their faces."

She looked at him and saw his expression change from softness to pride.

"Excellent."

"Why, Logan? Why do you have them? And why do you have them conceal their faces?"

"Why, indeed? You are asking the right questions, Annika." He took her hand and traced a finger over her palm. She was glad that he had taken to not wearing his gloves when they were together. She enjoyed the warmth of his skin on hers. His touch caused her to shiver, but in a way that she found pleasant.

Then he raised her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her palm and then folded her fingers over it.

"Annika, tell me, what do you think creates a tyrant?"

She had not expected this question at all. She still hated even the thought of that word in connection with her Logan.

She began to lower her gaze but he quickly seized her chin. "Look at me, Annika. Tell me what you believe creates a tyrant."

"It...it could be many things," she began, hating that her voice was wavering. Logan ignored it.

"Go on. I'm listening."

"Madness can create a tyrant." She raised her free hand and rested it on his chest. He sucked in a soft breath but did not move. "But you are not mad. No, you are quite sane and know exactly what you are doing."

"Indeed, I do," he said. "What else?"

"Drugs or alcohol use. Do you use such substances, Logan?"

He smiled. "Another good question. The answer is no, however."

She forged on, her thoughts beginning to flow more freely and easily, especially as he was asking her and not accusing her. He _wanted _her to ask. He _wanted _her to think and reason and analyse.

"Illness," she added, still being forced to look into his face. His grip on her chin gentle, yet firm. "Are you..." She swallowed thickly in sudden fear. "Are you ill, Logan?"

Suddenly she felt tears mist her eyes. What if her Logan was ill? What if he were dying and...

He suddenly pulled her to him in a fierce embrace. "No, Annika! Gods, no! Stop worrying. I am not ill."

She relaxed into him and sighed heavily in relief.

"I did not mean to frighten you," he whispered against her forehead. "It's nothing like that, my darling one. It's nothing like that at all. Shhh..."

He stroked her back and kissed her forehead and then her cheeks. She felt how sorry he was that he had inadvertently caused her such sickening terror.

She calmed herself and was able to stem the tears that were threatening to flow. She squeezed him tightly and was gratified when he returned the pressure.

"Right now I can only think of one other thing," she said into his chest.

"And that is?"

"Necessity."

Logan pulled back from her slightly and took her chin in his hand again.

"My Annika. You see more clearly than anyone I know." His voice was low and hoarse, and he was, she suspected, immensely relieved. "And you care. You look. You look and see, and, most importantly, you _want _to see. You _want _to understand." He cupped her cheek and stroked her lips with his calloused thumb.

"Never stop thinking. Never stop asking questions, even if only to yourself. And always, _always_ observe and try to see the reasons and possibilities behind everything. Seldom is anything completely as it appears to be."

He smiled gently and when she returned his smile he leaned down.

"Your reward, my Annika," he said, and pressed his mouth to hers.

She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body flush against his. She intended to take as full advantage of her 'reward' as she was able.

Just before his tongue persuaded her lips to part she could have sworn he chuckled softly.

* * *

><p>The next day Logan arranged for her to begin combat training. He arranged for Sir Walter Beck to instruct her in sword-fighting, and his own trainer to teach her hand to hand combat both with and without close weapons, and also to wrestle and brawl.<p>

As much as Annika wanted to question Logan about all this, she did not. It truly was not something she needed to ask. Logan had his reasons. If he wasn't explaining everything to her she knew that it was because he could not, or truly believed it best if he did not. Or, perhaps, she needed to discover more on her own.

She barely saw him for several weeks. Her training was intense, and he had also added an instructor to tutor her in the history of the Old Heroes. He had her study books on magic and spell-use. But...couldn't only heroes use Will? She shrugged as she pored through a book for the third time. She supposed it couldn't hurt her to be well-versed in everything she could learn. Besides, their mother had been Albion's previous Hero. Perhaps she or Logan was a Hero, or both of them, and the power simply hadn't manifested itself yet?

She was exhausted. Her body ached from the constant training and numerous bruises. Her brain ached with trying to retain so much. Her heart ached for missing her Logan.

She folded her arms on the library table and lay her head upon them. Perhaps just a few moments to rest...

She awoke in her own bed, in her night-dress, and Logan was in his night-clothes curled around her. He had carried her to bed! Had he...had he also undressed her and put on her night-clothes?

Annika blushed. He must have done. A maid never would have been so tender as to not awaken her, nor would even an utterly exhausted and sleeping Annika trust anyone other than Logan to take such a liberty with her while she was so helpless.

What had he thought of her? Had he found her beautiful, or plain? Did her body please him? He had had many women in his past, and likely very lovely ones. Could she possibly compare to...

"You are the most beautiful creature in Albion," Logan whispered hotly into her ear, obviously knowing what she was thinking. He tightened his arm around her belly and snuggled her closer to his body.

Annika sighed in relief and pleasure. She relaxed into him.

"I'm sorry if I inconvenienced you," she said softly, feeling the need to apologize for falling asleep during her studies.

"Don't be. I'm pushing you very hard, my Annika. But please trust me when I say that it is necessary. Do you...do you trust me?"

"Completely," she replied without hesitation.

"Thank you," he whispered and kissed the back of her neck. "Go back to sleep now. Tomorrow is another busy day. But I promise you that we will have some time alone together. I've...missed you."

"And I, you. Dreadfully."

He kissed her ear. "Sweet dreams, my darling one."

She smiled in the darkness. With him holding her how could she have any other kind?


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

This may be a story to be continued, or it may end up standing alone as a one-shot. The rating is only listed for possible future chapters. If no future content is forthcoming, the explicit adult content warning does not apply. However, the theme of incest, does. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

A chapter of some fluff and relaxation for our King and his Princess.

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 4**

Logan looked positively resplendant as he rounded the Map Table. "All of Albion is on here, Annika," he said, continuing to circle the table. "Some day soon you will visit all of these places."

Annika barely heard him. She couldn't compel herself to feel guilty because Logan was so incredibly handsome. He was tall and whipcord lean. His posture was upright and confident at all times. His dark hair framed his handsome and regal face. The scars he bore did not detract from his good looks, she thought, but rather accentuated his otherwise incredible physical perfection.

He wore their favourite colour, purple. Of course his royal attire also had cords and trimmings in gold, but the purple, Annika thought, beautifully enhanced his natural regality and competence. Their mother had chosen to wear red as her royal colour and their father had followed her example. But she and Logan preferred purple and and since childhood had also worn and given gifts of that colour to each other to express affection and devotion.

Logan's well-tailored trousers were black trimmed with gold and showed off his lean muscled thighs and his well-shaped backside. When he faced away from her she wondered what that behind of his would feel like if she dared to grasp it next time they embraced or kissed. Hard and firm, but with just enough softness to allow for a good squeeze? Or so tightly muscled that in bed he could likely ravish her for hours and...

"Annika?"

He was wearing his forboding black gloves, as he was 'on duty' right now, and that only made him appear more...in command to her. Gods, as strong as her own independent streak was, a part of her wanted him to take complete and utter charge of her. And not just in her royal instruction...

What would those gloved hands feel like on her naked breasts? Between her legs? When he took them off, one finger at a time, how would his hands feel on her nipples, or sliding into her most intimate flesh? Would he kiss her and probe her mouth even as his long and nimble fingers probed her body?

Would those strong legs prise hers apart as he took her? Annika shuddered and her breath hitched. Embarrassingly, her nipples hardened and she began to feel moisture seep into her pantalettes. By Avo, she wanted Logan to satisfy her aching! Well, after heightening it first by teasing her, and then easing it by claiming her completely for his own. She was a virgin, but her imagination was very colourful and her imaginings were consuming her more and more. It wasn't her fault that he had such a damned fine physique!

How would he 'instruct' her in bed? Would he _ever_ do so? Yes, she knew deep inside; he would. Not now, perhaps, but in time. She felt the bond of love between them and knew that he did as well. Siblings or not, they were made for each other. They were so good and right together. And, Annika firmly decided, if she was not perfect enough for her Logan, she would strive to be. Yet, she also knew that he did not desire perfection from her. He loved and accepted her for who she was, just as she did him. There was no need for either to change.

Wasn't that what true love was? Accepting the other person completely and just as they were? The good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly? She loved her Logan utterly. She loved the kind man and the cruel one. The man who was both patient and impatient, teasing and tormenting, the cold teacher and the kind. Even when he did or said things to make her cry, she loved him. Her love for him was completely unconditional.

She desperately wanted to please him, especially during these difficult times. Perhaps this desire on her part to be what he needed right now, to support, love, and accept him exactly as he was had been strengthened by the fact that he had been lonely and over-worked for far too long. He needed her, valued her, and she was only too happy to help him in any way she could.

And someday, she vowed, she would please him by giving him the second most precious thing she had to offer him. He already had her heart. She would, when he was ready to act on his desire for her, have her virginity and then he would possess her completely. He would be her first and last lover and love. The thought of any other man even touching her was...

"Annika?"

"Hmmm?" She looked up to see him staring quizzically at her.

"Where are you in that mind of yours, my dear? You've been paying attention until now."

He didn't sound irritated, though Annika knew that he should be. She had stopped listening to him and chose instead to indulge in wicked fantasies!

"I...ah..."

Logan sighed. "Annika, I think I know that look. You are miles away, aren't you? And your thoughts have nothing to do with your royal instruction."

"Uh...not my...royal instruction, no," she admitted shyly, averting her gaze. She felt a blush heat her cheeks and spread all the way down to her cleavage.

Logan's eyes narrowed, but in thought, not anger. "Not your royal instruction, you say? Are you implying that you need a break? Or are you desirious of instruction of a more...pleasurable sort?"

Annika resolutely folded her hands in her lap and studied them intently. "Forgive me, Logan. I will pay attention. My mind strayed and...I am sorry. Please, continue." She would not admit that he was right. Now was not the time.

"Do you think I am angry, my Annika?"

"No," she admitted, "but you should be. You are taking precious time to instruct me, and I repay you by...by..."

Suddenly he was so close to her that she felt the heat of his body. The electric charge of his presense caused her to shudder, but she refused to lose her composure.

"Stand, Annika," he commanded softly but firmly. "Stand and look at me."

She stood and looked up at him, but could not quite meet his gaze. Her eyes focused on his mouth. Which...was not the best idea, as that mouth of his began to make her mind wander towards thoughts of kissing him, deeply and wetly and...

Logan chuckled and tilted her chin upwards with a single gloved finger. "Annika, be at ease. I would start to become annoyed if you did this constantly, but you do not. You have learned much and are taking your instructions to heart and doing splendidly. Perhaps a bit of diversion would not be out of line right now."

Annika finally looked into his eyes.

"However," he went on with an air of disappointment, "I cannot, at this point in time, instruct you in...pleasures I would very much like to." His expression then warmed. "But we can take a stroll in the garden. There we can mix instruction with the pleasure of a stroll."

"The garden?" Annika asked in disbelief. "But Logan, you usually avoid the garden! You've always hated hearing the gossiping of those snobby nobles, and you've always said seeing your own statue makes you uncomfortable!"

"Annika, with you by my side, a walk in the garden will be a pleasure. Besides, I've reconsidered the statue. It turned out rather fine, did it not?"

She laughed. "Yes, it did, Logan! I've always said that it is splendid! The pointing gesture is unnecessary, I think, but the statue itself is wondrous. I love looking at it while I'm in bed."

He burst into laughter and Annika blushed even more hotly. She hadn't heard Logan outright laugh for so long that even though it was delightful to hear, the pleasure of it was overwhelmed by her embarrassing comment.

He stared intently at her and removed his gloves slowly, finger by finger, and then casually tossed them onto the Map Table. "Annika, shall I commission a statue of you to stand outside my bedroom?" He stroked his chin, grinning. "No, if I do that I'll never sleep. And no, I shan't explain why!"

He extended his arm and she took it. He tucked her hand snugly into the crook of his arm.

"To the garden, my precious Annika."

To Annika's surprise, the nobles who never had anything better to do than linger about the grounds greeted them pleasantly but immediately let them be. Of course, that could have been due to the sharp glares that Logan shot in their direction from time to time.

Annika remained pleasant when she had to and impassive the rest of the time while they wended their way towards the most secluded area. At last, however, the last of the nobles they passed by drifted away, doubtless to whisper amongst themselves at the opposite end of the garden. Logan guided Annika to a marble bench amidst a large grouping of well-tended flowers. The gardeners moved away to allow the couple privacy.

"How are you?" Annika asked him softly. Even though his mood was still somewhat good, she could feel tension radiating from him.

"Better than I expected, honestly," he replied. "At least the useless hordes of wigs decided to have the decency to let us be."

Annika smiled and took one of his hands in hers and lightly squeezed. "Yes, they did. I don't enjoy them any more than you do." She frowned slightly. "Logan, do you think it right of me or wrong that even though they are our subjects and I would do anything to see to their well-being, that I wish they would find something more useful to do with their lives than wander about in fine clothes and do nothing?"

Logan's mouth twitched. "They try my patience as well, Annika. They are, as you said, our subjects, and as such, I care for them and their well-being. However, a part of me does indeed wish that they knew what true responsibility was. I would that they could understand how to make difficult decisions, take responsibility for them, and endure the consequences, as painful as that can be. I tire of their judgemental attitude when they have absolutely no idea of what they are judging."

Annika knew that he was not speaking of only the nobles now, but of almost everyone in Albion.

"I wish they realised that difficult and complicated decisions can rend the heart, try the spirit, tax the mind, and wear down the body. Especially when the one who has to make them is despised even when he does everything for a very good reason. Even when he does them with the good of all Albion in mind. Even when he must make great and painful sacrifices for the greater good. Nobody knows, Annika! Nobody knows, nobody cares, and nobody _wants _to give me the benefit of the slightest doubt!"

He said all this quietly, but intensely. His face flushed and his fists clenched in his lap. He squeezed his eyes closed and his breathing became ragged and rapid.

"Logan, hush!" Annika whispered, wrapping her hands over his. "I care. I know, at least a little! I care and I want to understand. And I will, whether you ever tell me or not. I'll understand. I'll find a way and I'll stand by you, my dearest! I promise you that. You aren't alone, Logan. As long as I'm alive you will never be alone. Ever."

She gently tried to unclench his fists. He resisted her at first, but gradually, as her words penetrated through the fog of his tormented mind, he began to relax.

"Annika, do you mean it? All of it? Will you stand by me? Always?"

"Always," she assured him. His eyes flickered open and focused on her face. "I love you and I trust you. I also know that you are only human, Logan."

He nodded and sighed. "That I am, my dearest one."

"But you do your best. I know that you may make mistakes, as anyone can, but I know that you do nothing without good reason. I don't know what those reasons are, but I know that you are doing the best you can. When you are ready you'll confide in me, Logan, and I'll help you."

"For now, my Annika, I just need you to be near me. I need you to believe in me. But..." His face fell as he looked out across the grounds.

"But?" she prodded gently.

"But you'll soon have to leave me," he said. "Annika, let me finish!" he added when he saw her eyes widen. "I know more than I can reveal. I know that soon you must leave and you may be gone for a long time. When you have accomplished what you must, you will return. When you do, I hope...I hope you'll understand and have mercy upon me."

Annika was shocked into silence. She couldn't have spoken at that moment if her life depended upon it. She would have to leave Logan? Leave him alone and at the mercy of the people who were, even now, hating him and possibly plotting against him?

"I am preparing you as best I can. I don't know all of what you must face, but I suspect that you will...that you _must, _gain great power. When you do, you will become far greater than I could ever dream of being. When that happens, I hope you will have mercy upon me. If I am blessed by good fortune, you'll also still love me."

Now she found her voice. "Logan, I will _always_ love you. And if ever I am in a position to judge you, believe me that I shall do so with both love and mercy. Don't fear on that account, my dearest, dearest Logan."

She raised his hands to her lips and brushed kisses over his knuckles. "Whatever is to be will be, but only to a certain extent. You speak as if of Prophecy. If that is so, I still make my own path. I will follow it according to my own heart, my own judgement, and my own mind. Nobody, not even you, will force me onto a path not of my own choosing. Of course I will be influenced by my love for you, but as you love me, I love you. You make choices for me sometimes, but ultimately I choose whether or not to follow through on those choices."

Logan's face relaxed as she continued to brush her lips across his hands as she spoke. "I had the feeling that you have been preparing me for something great. I don't know what it is, nor do I wish to yet. But when it happens, have faith in me, Logan. I have faith in you and always will. Even if I ever doubt you, I'll have faith that you are doing nothing less than your best. Please, Logan, believe the same of me."

His eyes took on a softness that melted her heart. "Until that time comes, the time you speak of, let us enjoy every moment together that we can, whether it be in learning or in pleasure. And know that every moment of every day I love you more than anything. I do, Logan. I love you more than anything. And as wrong as it may seem...I love you more than all of Albion. I choose you, Logan. I choose you and I always will."

"Annika, that may be a mistake!" Logan whispered, but his voice was filled with awe and tenderness. "I am fallible. I may err unforgivably!"

"No error from you will ever be unforgivable, and do you know why?" she asked, but did not wait for him to reply. "Because we all err, Logan, even when we do our best. None of us is perfect. Do you remember the Choice our mother made at the Spire when her quest was done?"

"She chose...Love," Logan said, his voice so low that she barely heard him. "She always told us that she knew she should have chosen Sacrifice...but she could not. She said that even as Albion's greatest Hero, that she was not perfect."

"I say she was. She was perfect in her Love," Annika said. "Yes, I suppose that when looking at the larger picture she should have Sacrificed. But after all she had endured, she truly had no real Choice, did she? She chose what she had to, what her heart and soul demanded. And if I were in her position, I would choose the same, Logan. I would and will choose _you_. Always."

"Your logic is so flawed that I cannot begin to point out everything that is wrong with it," Logan said, but his face was serene. "I feel the same." He smiled now. "As much as I love Albion and do everything I can to the best of my ability for her, I would do even more for you, my Annika."

He pulled her close and embraced her. "I need you, Annika. I love you and I need you. That will never change. I just hope that when your trial comes you will be able to remain strong."

He pulled back just enough to look into her gleaming green eyes. "Let me correct myself," he said. "I _know_ you will remain strong. I have faith in you."

"It's about time," Annika smirked. "What in the Hells took you so long?"

He smiled a small, but genuine smile. "I have no idea! Just forgive me, my lovely one, and allow me to reward you."

His deep and loving kiss was not only a reward for her, Annika knew, but for himself. For the first time, he allowed his hands to slide from her back to her rear. And squeeze.


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

This may be a story to be continued, or it may end up standing alone as a one-shot. The rating is only listed for possible future chapters. If no future content is forthcoming, the explicit adult content warning does not apply. However, the theme of incest, does. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 5**

"Logan, you said I must leave you soon," Annika said, pressing her face into his neck. She inhaled the scent of him, now so familiar. The smells of parchment, inks, old books, and the Throne Room emanated from him. But so did the scents that she could not specifically separate, but were part of him regardless; the scents of command, determination, frustration, duty, courage, strength, fear, doubt, love, desire, despair, and resignation. Yet there was also a blanket perfume of hope and optimism that gently caressed her and seeped into her mind and heart to be remembered for when they would be parted.

"Yes," he sighed dispiritedly. "Soon, you will leave me. You must. But I would like us to be able to communicate with each other, at least occasionally."

Annika felt tears prick her eyes. She hugged him tighter and his hands now rested comfortably against her bottom. If anyone saw them, not a word was uttered.

She flicked her tongue over his neck and tasted the salt of his perspiration. Logan shuddered, groaned, and then relaxed. Annika laved her tongue over the same spot for several moments, and then wetly kissed it, sucking gently before releasing the flesh and laying her cheek against his shoulder. His sigh betrayed his pleasure at her intimacy with him.

"So you were thinking we could use flowers and their language? It's a splendid idea," she said, knowing that they must pursue the issue at hand, "but even if we could memorize them all, can we be specific enough?"

"I don't see what other choice we have," Logan replied. "Any letters could be intercepted. And also, there is the matter of..." He hesitated, raising his hand to stroke her cheek and sliding his other hand to the small of her back. "There is the matter of whether we should communicate at all."

"Why shouldn't we?" she asked, pulling back to look at him. "Logan, are you seriously telling me that you think we should not even..." Her voice broke momentarily and she fought an inner battle to regain her composure. "You think we should just not...that we should just be apart? Completely and utterly?" A sick feeling swept over her and cold sweat broke out all over her body.

Her disappointment, and even horror, were not lost on him. He raised his hand from her cheek to tangle it affectionately into her wild red curls.

"Annika, perhaps this Path you must take should free you from me. Any influence from me could prove to be a dire mistake. Perhaps you need to be completely absent from me in every way to become who and what you are meant to be. If things are to unfold as they hopefully should, perhaps you need to make the Path independent of me. After all, in this, I am your nemesis."

Logan rested his forehead against hers and sighed. The sound was heart-wrenching and Annika could not, would not, stand for it.

"No, Logan. I _make_ the Path. I will follow what I must, but I will bend what I can of it as I see fit. Being completely cut off from you is not an option. Do you hear and understand me, Logan? I won't have it!"

Suddenly her face was cradled between his palms and their noses nearly touched. His deep brown eyes bored into her emerald green ones. Resolute determination met absolute obstinancy.

Determination lost. Logan inhaled and then let out his breath in a rush.

"Very well, Annika. I cannot say that I am sorry to hear you say that." His tone was relieved.

"Good," she said, still staring into his eyes, "because I absolutely will not be cut off from you altogether."

"Well then, we must decide how and under what circumstances we can communicate when the need arises." He gestured to the flower bed. "Flowers are plentiful in many places, Annika, but not everywhere. I do not think that you will always be able to find the most fitting one."

"And how would I get it to you even if I do?" she asked.

"I've been pondering that," Logan replied. "If your Path even remotely resembles that of our mother, you will be taking on many quests and leaving behind countless corpses of monsters and other malicious enemies."

Annika couldn't help but laugh. She seized Logan's hands and brought them to her lap. "I suppose I can sprinkle some meaningful blossoms about the corpses?"

She was gratified to hear him chuckle. "That is one way," he admitted. "Don't think for a moment that the minute you begin to make a name for yourself that I won't be able to track you."

He sobered and clasped her hands firmly. "But remember that many, many enemies will be able to track you as well, my Annika. Be ever vigilant. Drink no wine and keep your back to the wall. Keep your own counsel whenever possible. The odd man or child you see from time to time who will be wearing a purple band about his upper arm is the man or child you may pass a flower or a cryptic message to."

Annika made a mental note of every word. Here it was; here was the opportunity he was offering her to not only keep them from ever being hopelessly isolated from each other, but also to be able to 'speak' now and again.

"If ever you need assistance, send me a flower or an object that is orange, or leave one where my men can find it. I will have them report everything to me, every detail down to the most minute particle of dust. I will find a way to help you."

"And if you need help, Logan?"

"Do not concern yourself with me. This journey is about you and what you must do and must become. I can take care of myself until it is complete. I have elite guards, as well. I will be all right, my Annika. I do ask you, however, to remember all you have learned and will learn before you depart. And never ever stop asking questions. Form your own judgements, even if they are, or seemingly are, at odds with mine. I will do as I must, and you must do the same."

Logan seized her upper arms and kissed her quickly but forcefully. "Even if that means that someday you will turn against me, I will understand."

"I won't, Logan," she gasped against his mouth. "I couldn't!"

"You may need to," he whispered, pressing his lips to her ear now. "You may have no choice. I know things you do not, and am forced to play the pitiful hands I am dealt. You will have more freedom and better opportunities. Just...just please don't stop loving me and trying to understand me. No matter what happens or what I do, try to..."

"I won't fail you, Logan!" Annika said. "That I swear. And in not failing you, I won't fail myself. Or Albion. I'll follow this mysterious Path you speak of, but I will not become a mindless puppet."

"Good," Logan said, raising her hands to his lips and kissing them fervently. "Trust no-one completely except yourself. Not even me."

"But I do trust you, Logan!"

"And I will never betray you, Annika. But I will, I fear, be forced to do things that are...monstrous. Never mind that if I do them because I must. But there may come a day when you must stop me. That won't necessarily mean you will be betraying me, Annika."

"I don't...I don't understand!" Annika was baffled. How could she stop Logan in these scenarios he was speaking of and not betray him? It made no sense!

"Don't worry about that now," he whispered. "I fear I am going too far ahead. Take things one step at a time, my Annika. It is only because I don't know when you must leave me that I am anxious. Perhaps I am rushing you into fears and possibilities too quickly and perhaps even needlessly. But I must take that chance. I do not know from one day to the next when I will see you for the last time."

"Whenever it is, it won't be for the last time!" Annika insisted, becoming truly alarmed now.

"No, but it will likely be for quite a long time. Perhaps years. That will seem an eternity to me." He pulled her against his chest again and held her so tightly that she could barely breathe, but she welcomed the discomfort.

"Now," he murmured against her cheek, "let us speak of flowers and symbols and everything we can think of that we may need in order to communicate. We must commit these to memory today. And only between us. Only ever between us."

"Yes, Logan."

* * *

><p>"Faster, harder!" Walter urged Annika as he lunged at her over and over with his sword. "I've done the best I can to give you your wish, Princess!"<p>

"To teach me to be a Hero?" she asked, effectively blocking his blows.

"I've done my best, Princess. I think you're going to be the saviour we're all hoping for!"

Annika was barely able to conceal her shock. Even Walter knew that something was going to happen? And that it involved her?

"Walter," she said, panting, as she changed her tactics from defense to offense, "what are you talking about? I've heard...strange whisperings that I may be fated to...follow in my mother's footsteps?"

Walter did not stop their sparring. "I had hoped that it would not come to it like this, but you've heard right, Princess. The mood in the castle and, in fact, much of Albion, is uneasy and frightened. This Kingdom needs a new leader. It will take nothing less than a full scale revolution to stop your brother. Many others have these sentiments and are growing restless."

"A...revolution? Walter, I cannot!" Annika burst out. She could not let on that she had been having her suspicions that this was what Logan had been preparing her for. Besides, if she was honest with Walter, he would believe her. It was not as if she were lying to her beloved mentor, regardless. She could not betray her brother! Even if she wanted to, which she did not, she was only one person, after all.

"Give me all you've got, Princess!" Walter called out. "Strike me as hard as you can!"

He assumed a blocking position and Annika summoned all the desire she had in her to strike him and knock him down. Until she did, she would not be able to take even the first step on the Path it seemed she was fated for.

Annika suddenly felt very sick, for she knew the moment she struck Walter that she would be taking her first step away from...her Logan.

But strike at Walter she must. The sooner she got this damnable destiny of hers underway the sooner it would be finished. The sooner she left the sooner she would be able to return, help Logan set things right, and be by his side for good.

Annika crouched, concentrated on her desire to win this battle, and then brought her blade down on Walter's as hard as she could.

To her shock and Walter's delight, the blade snapped off at the base.

"You've gone and bloody broke it!" he cried out in triumph. "I knew you were you mother's daughter! You are a Hero!"

Annika fell to her knees, the echoing of the blade striking the marble tiles still ringing in her ears. "Walter, I don't want to be! I don't want to do this!"

Where had her courage and determination suddenly gone? A moment ago she was ready to begin her journey, and now...now that the moment had arrived she was a frightened little girl. No, not frightened, thoroughly terrified. Terrified, sick, and horrified beyond words.

Walter knelt beside her and put an arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture.

"Princess...Annika, it will be all right. Maybe things won't turn out as badly as all that. Besides, I'll be at your side no matter what. You can count on me."

She knew that she could. But what she needed right now was her Logan. She glanced up at a shadow that caught her eye. Logan stood in the doorway. Her eyes immediately welled with tears and he rushed forward.

"Leave her to me, Walter," he said firmly, but not angrily. "I will tend to her. She is plainly distressed."

"As you wish, Your Highness," Walter said. "But you need to know that your sister just broke my finest sword! She's a born warrior. I think she's in shock."

Logan pulled Annika to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. "It's all right," he whispered so softly into her ear that there was no possible way that Walter could hear him. "It begins soon, but it will be all right. Come with me, my beloved Annika. I'll soothe you and take care of you."

"But Your Majesty, there are still people waiting to see you."

"They can bloody well wait," Logan said flatly. Then softly, "Come, my Annika."


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

Special warning - This chapter will well deserve its M rating as the explicit adult content is beginning. So, here's Part I of Logan and Annika's passionate farewell to each other.

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 6**

Logan took Annika to his room and lay her on his bed. He curled himself behind her and held her as she cried.

"It's all true, Logan!" she sobbed, "all of it! I think Walter's right. I _am _a Hero. But I don't want to be! I don't want any of this!"

"I know, dear-heart," Logan whispered into her neck, and snuggling her tightly against him. His clothing was too stiff to allow for his body's warmth to comfort her, but for the moment, he offered her all he could.

"You should be the Hero, Logan, not me!" Annika went on. "You are the first born child! You should have the power inside of _you_. And you are King! It's not fair that you are denied..."

Logan stopped her. "Annika, it's not your fault! And I don't feel slighted or jealous of you. I think one of us had to be groomed to rule and the other to be the Hero. It really makes no difference to me that I am not one. You are, and I think that was made plain just now. You deserve it, Annika. You deserve all the good you will be able to do and all the abilities and power you will obtain."

"I sound like a spoiled and petulant child, don't I?" she sniffed, but her tears began to subside.

Logan smiled into her neck and kissed her nape. "A little," he admitted, "but who can blame you? It is something that will completely alter your life. We know that Mother endured a great deal and had more responsibility thrust upon her than anyone ever should have. But I also believe, Annika, that you can handle it."

"I don't," she said. "I don't know that I can, Logan. I'm just shy of twenty years of age! I'm so young!"

"That is not so young," Logan said. "You are a woman, Annika. Mother's powers manifested at about the same age."

"You are but seven and twenty, Logan. You already endure more than anyone, even a Hero!" She shifted her body about and faced him, draping her right arm around him and curling it about his shoulders and neck. "You...you look older than your years, my dearest. The toll of being King is wearing you down, and even as a Hero, I am powerless to help you!"

Logan smiled tenderly. "It will all end when your journey is complete, my Annika. Things are progressing as they perhaps should. I need to be King and you need to be the Hero. When...when everything comes to a head, we will either stand together, or you will overthrow me and defeat..._it._..on your own."

Annika frowned. He was keeping secrets still! "What, Logan? What is going to happen? What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know everything, Annika," he said, bringing up his left hand to stroke her face. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and then stroked her lobe between his thumb and forefinger. "I just know that Albion must be prepared for the greatest evil force it has ever faced. I am doing what I can from here. You must develop to your full potential as a Hero if we are to win."

"We will stand together, Logan," Annika said resolutely, her tears finally drying. "Why do you continue to doubt me?"

He sighed. "I cannot help it, Annika. I am a fallible man. I love you more than I can ever say or express. You are my everything. You are my greatest weakness, but also my greatest strength. I need you more than I need air. Your well-being is absolutely essential to my own. I..." He hesitated, and then touched his forehead to hers, one of his favourite gestures, "I...don't know how I'll manage to remain sane without you by my side."

"Oh, Logan..."

"But I will. I will because I know you'll return to me in triumph." He brushed his lips across hers. "And when you do, you will fulfill my greatest hope for you."

For her? What about him? Annika noticed he was not saying that he knew she would return and stand by him and love him; only that she would return.

"Damn it, Logan!" Annika lost her patience. She kissed him fiercely and then pulled back to glare into his eyes. "Stop doubting me! Stop it! I'm sick of you implying that I would ever consider _not _returning to you to be _with _you and beside you in every conceivable way!"

"Annika, a lot will happen and you will learn and discover..."

"Shut it!" she snapped. A part of her could not believe she was speaking to him like this, but all her pent-up frustration and resentment would no longer be quelled. "Shut it and stop doubting me! I'll not have it! Not another word about it, Logan. Not. Another. Single. Damned. Word."

They stared at each other in silence. Annika was breathing hard and Logan was barely breathing at all.

Finally, after several long moments, Logan slowly nodded. "As you say, my Annika. I cannot promise to not worry and fear for you and for my own selfish heart, but I can promise to do my best."

"That's...better," she conceded. "It's not what I want, but I suppose it will have to do."

"It is the best I can offer," he said.

"But it is not all you can offer," she said. "You can, and must, do one thing for me before I leave, if leave I must."

"You must," he replied.

Annika forged ahead, for she did not want to lose her nerve. "Logan, we haven't spoken of it, but now I will, even if you will not. I love you. I love you as a woman loves a man. You are the only man I will ever love, and I know this from the depths of my heart and soul. I don't know how you feel about me..."

"Yes, you do," he said, caressing her cheek tenderly, his eyes softening.

"I mean I don't know if you will ever...marry me." There. She finally said it! Logan continued to stoke her cheek and did not look in the least surprised. She went on. "But I want to marry you when I return. If you'll have me, that is. But since that is not possible now, even if you would agree to such a thing, you...you _must _love me. Please, Logan! Love me!"

He kissed her deeply now, his tongue sweetly and gently invading her mouth. The arm that was not supporting him on his side rounded her back and slid down to her rear and squeezed.

"Gods," he groaned, pulling back to press kisses along her jaw and her throat, "I do love you Annika! You are the only woman I would _ever_ marry! And if that is still your wish when you return, I am yours. Utterly. Gladly. Gratefully."

"Then love me now, before I have to go!" Annika pleaded. "Logan, I love you so much! I need you and I want you. I'm a virgin, and I don't know how to please you, but..."

He stilled her words with a firm kiss until she whimpered beneath his mouth, and finally fell silent.

Then he spoke. "Annika, I have thought of this moment for...for longer than I care to admit. And I'll give you what I can. But there is one thing I cannot do. I cannot take your virginity."

Annika felt her eyes grow so large that she feared she resembled a bull frog. "You...what? Why not?"

"Because...don't yell at me again!" he said quickly, seeing her face take on the stubborn look he knew so well, "because you must have the opportunity to decide that when you return. By then you will know everything. Or almost everything. Only then will you truly be able to decide if a life with me in such a way is what you truly desire."

He saw her face grow angrier still and hurried on to placate her. "Annika, believe me, there is only the smallest fraction of a doubt in my mind! But it is not because of even that infinitesimal doubt that I refuse to...penetrate...you. It is because I want you to be fully who and what you will be before you decide to bless me with something so precious."

Annika felt the anger drain out of her in a rush. She didn't like his refusal, but she understood it.

"So...what _will_ you do? I..." Then she laughed; for she could not help herself. "I'm feeling like a ravaging beast, Logan! Here I am, in your bed, and I'm demanding that you make love to me! Oh, Logan, I hope you won't refuse me even a portion of...whatever it is that men and women do, after all I've said. But I don't want to leave you without having had all the intimacy with you that I can. You see," she said, cradling his head in her hand and touching the tip of her nose to his, "I'm as selfish a creature as you are. Where you are involved, my Logan, I cannot be otherwise."

"I cannot, nor do I have the slightest desire, to refuse you," Logan said, smiling. "I don't care what anyone would say or think. I love you and I freely admit that I also desire you. As royals, we can do as we please. But even if we weren't, I dare say I would feel the same."

"So would I," Annika said. "Besides, love is love. Accident of birth means nothing to me. So show me, Logan! Show me your love! Show me how you want to love me and teach me how to please you. I...am woefully ignorant."

She blushed, despite her boldness and desire. His experience against her ignorance was embarrassing. Logan had lain with women before her and knew what to do. She had never been with any man and had, only on a few occasions, experimented with touching herself while she lay in her bed fantasizing about him while gazing at his statue outside her window.

"Firstly, let me tell you that it will be my greatest delight to lavish upon you certain...techniques that I have only practiced with one other; the woman who taught me the art of truly and exquisitely pleasuring a woman."

"I don't understand," Annika said. "Are you saying you have not brought the women you have...lain with...pleasure?" She sternly told herself to keep her jealousy at bay. After all, he loved _her! _

Logan grinned. "Of course I have, Annika. The experience of sex is not complete unless both are satisfied. But with you, this is more than just sex. It is love. Since I have never loved another, the intimacies I speak of are not the sort I have ever desired to do with anyone else. But with you I want to so badly that I fear that if I don't begin now I'll lose control over my own body and...embarrass myself."

"I can't believe that!" Annika teased. "The King of Albion embarrass himself before his helpless, but oh-so-willing, conquest?"

Logan chuckled. "Ah, but who has conquered who, my Annika?"

He rolled to the edge of the bed and off, standing several feet away. "I think I should begin. After all, you may find yourself more comfortable if I disrobe first."

Annika sat up eagerly, eyes wide and mouth practically watering. She couldn't wait! She was finally going to see that gorgeous physique of his in its finest state – unclothed! She swept her tongue over her suddenly dry lips and watched his hands as they first went to unclasp his chest piece. Suddenly Logan stopped.

"Annika, you are positively staring at me!"

Her eyes flew to his face. "But of course I am! I've been wanting to see you out of those clothes for ages!"

To her surprise, he coloured. "I...I suppose you have been. What I mean is..." He paused, uncharacteristically flustered. "I mean that you've never seen a naked man before, so I shouldn't be surprised that you..." Aware that he was only digging the verbal hole deeper, he stopped speaking.

"Just go on, Logan," Annika urged. "But after the chest piece, I want you to remove your boots and then your gloves. And then..."

He suddenly laughed. "Annika! I'm beginning to think that you are far less nervous than I thought."

"Oh, no! I am nervous," she admitted, "terribly so, in fact. But right now I'm excited that you are finally going to shed all those damnable layers you always wear. You'll finally reveal yourself to me. No more hiding, Logan. You may have some secrets left, but your body won't be one of them."

Logan narrowed his eyes and smirked. "And by the time I'm through with you, my Annika, I will know every crevasse, hollow, slope, curve, taste, and texture of yours. And remember, I am a _very _thorough man."

Not to be bested, Annika said, "And I'm a very curious woman, Logan. I doubt anything will escape my notice or touch, either. Especially since you've kept me waiting for far too long." Then she remembered one of his words. "Wait..._taste?_"

Logan chuckled. "You'll see, Annika, or rather, you'll_ feel_. _I'll_ do the tasting." His knowing smirk made her squirm and blush.

The chest plate came off and was set on the floor. "And don't even think of changing your mind now, my dear one. I'm too far gone in wanting you to let you leave this chamber now."

He reached for a boot and Annika's mouth went dry. She cleared her throat as she experienced once more the strange pulsing sensation she had felt in the Throne Room the day Logan had proposed a bargain for the release of the prisoners. Her belly grew warm and the pulsing centred itself between her thighs.

"And if I do change my mind?" she asked with a tremulous voice, but both knew that she wouldn't.

"I'll stop you and rend the clothing from your body if necessary," he said calmly, kicking the loosened boot aside and beginning on the other. "But I rather think that even if you do try to escape, I'll change your mind soon enough."

"_I'll be begging him," _she knew. And so did he.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, watching him raptly.

"No, you aren't." His voice was soft, but utterly commanding.

Now this..._this _was the sort of possession she craved from her man! Elliot would never be so commanding nor so bold in taking what he wanted. No, Elliot was too much of a boy. Logan was a man. A real man. Her man.

And he was undressing for her! His feet were bare and now he had tossed his gloves aside, too. The long and slender fingers she so enjoyed caressing her face or twining in her hair were now unbuttoning his shirt and slowly revealing his tanned and lean chest. As the unbuttoning neared his waist, however, she saw scars similar to the ones on his face. And...oh, goodness! There was a particularly nasty and long one wrapping from his taut stomach around to his back.

"It's fine, Annika," he whispered, seeing her concern. "It's long healed."

"Thank goodness," she said. "But I shall kiss it anyway."

His eyes glinted. "My treasure," he murmured. "I'll take you up on that."

The shirt was tossed aside and Annika greedily drank in the sight of his lean and muscled torso. The scars he bore only emphasized his beauty, as she had known any scars of his scars would, and did. He didn't have an overabundance of chest hair, but enough to tempt her to decide to lace her fingers through it as soon as she had the opportunity. Her hungry gaze followed the line of black hair as it trailed down to the waist of his trousers and disappeared beneath. His fingers hesitated.

She looked up. "What are you waiting for, Logan?" she asked impatiently, "a Royal Decree?"

He smirked. "Maybe I'm waiting for you to catch up. After all, I'm beginning to think it unfair that I should be completely nude while you are fully clothed."

"You've seen me nude before," she pointed out. "That night you took me to bed and dressed me in my pajamas, remember?"

"Sod it," he muttered, "I should have known you'd remember that."

"So, Logan, proceed. I'm thoroughly enjoying the show." It was Annika's turn to smirk. Even though her nipples were hard and she was beginning to become very damp between her legs, betraying her own arousal, he didn't know any of that yet. He was still, for all intents and purposes, at her mercy right now.

She saw the impressive bulge in his trousers and knew exactly what it meant, even if the source of it wasn't hers to enjoy just yet.

Suddenly her patience was at an end. "Logan," she groaned, and leaped from the bed. She rushed to him and his arms enfolded her as she kissed him. "This is really happening, isn't it? You're really going to...love me?"

He moaned against her lips and pulled her against him so firmly that his erection prodded her belly.

"Yes, my Annika. There's no stopping now."


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

Special warning - This chapter will well deserve its M rating as explicit adult content has arrived. So, here's Part 2 of Logan and Annika's passionate farewell to each other.

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 7**

"Well, this is incredibly...odd!" Annika exclaimed as she dropped to her knees and stared directly at Logan's erection.

Logan was finally naked and she was enjoying every moment of it. She had not yet touched him, as her eyes were not finished feasting upon his beautiful form. He was even more glorious naked than she had imagined. His lithe form was as well-muscled as she had imagined, and those muscles rippled beneath his flesh with the slightest movement. He was so long and lean and strong and regal and..._hers! _

So, this was her Logan! He was a glorious specimen! And that part of him that would refuse to completely claim her tonight was something she had not entirely expected. She had known, somewhat, what a naked man would look like, but she had not imagined the length, not to mention the impressive width, of the fleshy pole that sprang from his drawers when he at last removed them.

"It's quite large, isn't it?" she asked herself more than him, "and it's incredibly intimidating!" She heard Logan suck in a hissing breath as she cautiously touched the very tip of it with a single finger.

"Oh, my!" she gasped when his erection twitched in response. She nearly fell onto her backside in shock. "It...moved!"

Logan chuckled. "You've got me in quite a state," he said. "Don't you dare laugh!"

"Oh, I'm not laughing," Annika said, "I...I'm in quite a state, too."

"I can smell it on you, my dearest," he said, his voice low and knowing.

Her eyes flew to his face in surprise. "You can smell me?"

"Only you, not other women," he said. "I've always taken a keen interest in you, and, especially lately, everything about you. Oh yes, I can smell your arousal. Would you like me to help you with that?" He was about to speak further when Annika leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock.

It was a simple lick; experimental and purely out of curiosity of how it would taste, but the effect on Logan was quite profound.

He gasped and clutched her shoulders with fiercely gripping fingers. Annika felt his knees buckle. He recovered swiftly, however, and was soon standing proud and straight once more. Well, would he recover so quickly if she...

Annika grasped his hips and pulled him closer to her as she took the tip of him into her mouth. It felt natural to do so, and judging by his fingers now digging so hard into her shoulders that she knew they would bruise, he liked it. A lot.

She took more of him inside and tentatively swirled her tongue about the curious appendage. Slightly salty, musky, flesh-like of course, and...yes...salty! There was a small amount of a slick salty substance seeping from the silken tip that resembled a helmet. It was so smooth! And the fluid tasted curious. Mostly salt, yes, but also somewhat metallic, and like a...a man. Yes, a man. Logan. Logan's unique taste.

It was strange, to be sure, but not off-putting. In fact, she liked his taste. Annika now sucked gently, and felt him thicken even more. She felt the veins pulse and when she ran her tongue over them, Logan gasped and wound his fingers into her hair, encouraging her. He was obviously trying to be gentle, but his body was apparently making it difficult for him.

She felt him tense, heard him moan, and his fingers twitch as she tried different things with her tongue and lips and the edges of her teeth. Slowly, as he gently thrust his hips forward and then back, she realised she would have to relax her throat or gag. He obviously liked it when she could take him deeper, so she was determined to take in as much of him as she could.

She pulled back and ran her tongue over his scrotum, delighted when his fingers spasmed and his knees buckled again. This time he didn't fight it, but simply gave up and lay on the floor. Annika crouched over him between his knees and bent over to attend to him.

"Oh, gods, Annika!" he groaned, "I didn't mean for you to...but...you are so damned good!"

She was pleased. He liked what she was doing! Emboldened, she began to trace her fingers over his sac while running her tongue up and down his shaft. She carefully monitored his reactions, especially the lovely sounds he made, as she tried different things.

Laving her tongue, sucking gently, then more firmly. Grazing her teeth up and down his length, then prodding the tiny slit at the top where his droplets came from: all got her most agreeable reactions.

Soon she had him panting and twitching. He was actually helpless! When she was at last able to take him all the way into her throat he let out a guttural cry and pulled her head off of him.

"Gods, Annika, if you do that for one more moment, I'll...I'll..."

"You'll what?" she asked, and then, curious, she bent back down and quickly suckled him.

"_Annika!"_ he cried out, his body lurching upward. He stiffened and his organ twitched in her mouth and released more of the warm salty, Logan-fluid.

She couldn't help but be smugly satisfied. She knew she had done something very, very right! Even though he had told her to stop, she had seen a flash in his eyes that told her that he didn't truly want her to. He wanted to release himself; he needed to. And with her. Only her!

She swallowed every drop, and then suckled the tip of him some more. To her immense pleasure, his body spasmed again and this time his cry was incoherent. But she knew that he was experiencing the bliss only she could give him.

Annika sat up and licked her lips slowly, enjoying, even as she analysed, the lingering taste of him. It was incredibly...erotic. Yes, erotic. Even though she was still fully clothed, having him naked before her and experiencing such pleasure from her was rewarding beyond words.

She loved him; it was that simple; yet she also craved his complete and utter surrender. When he was like this, so utterly helpless and enthralled by her, she felt a surge of confidence and power that was heady and almost dizzying.

"Am I good, Logan?" she asked coquettishly, and was surprised at how husky her voice had become. "Do I...please you?"

"That," Logan panted, "is the most ridiculous question I've ever heard! If you pleased me any more I couldn't bear it!" He sat up and pulled her in for a kiss that was so deep and needful that she felt her own fluids seep completely through her pantalettes. She was so wet that she suddenly felt embarrassed.

Logan felt no such thing, however, and when he pulled back from her mouth and gazed into her flushed face and brightened eyes, he grinned.

"Now it's my turn to please you," he said. "Off with those clothes...now!"

Annika reached for the lacing to her blouse, but Logan impatiently shoved her hands aside. He seized the fabric and ripped it, baring her torso completely.

"No corset?" he teased, but also unable to tear his hungry gaze from her bared body.

"I...I dislike them," she panted, fighting hard to not give in to the temptation to cover her naked breasts.

"So do I," he said. "At least on you. I forbid you to ever wear one in my presence, Annika. Ever."

"If you had your way I'd be naked in your bed at all times?" she teased, beginning to see how the sight of her affected him.

"Don't tempt me," he said. "I am the King. I can make that happen."

"Not now, you can't," Annika said as Logan stood and pulled her to her feet. He grasped her skirt and was about to tear it when she stopped him.

"Can't I?" he said, his eyes glittering with dark passion. "You have no idea what you do to me, my Annika. You haven't the vaguest notion of how much I love you and need you. How much I crave you and..."

"Yes, I do," she whispered, and kissed him, stopping his flood of words. "Yes, I do."

She stepped back and slowly removed her skirt, keenly aware of his intense gaze on every motion she made. The skirt pooled at her feet and she shivered when she saw him wet his lips. Was this how she had made him feel when he was undressing? Full of longing and anticipation, yet a strange nervousness at the same time? If so, she rather liked the feeling.

She pressed herself forward to remove her shoes next, and then her stockings. When she was only in her pantalettes Logan moved forward.

"Allow me," he said, kneeling.

Why was he kneeling? He...oh, gods! He grasped her hips and pulled her closer. His hot mouth pressed against the mound just beneath the thin fabric of her undergarment. It was her turn to have her knees turn to jelly. His hands supported her as he pushed his mouth harder against her. She felt his tongue press on her most sensitive flesh and wriggle.

"Logan!" she cried out, goose-flesh erupting over her entire body and her crotch becoming even wetter.

He laved his tongue over her and the rough fabric teased her flesh in a way she had never imagined it could. She wound her fingers through his hair and involuntarily held his head firmly to her. Her back arched, his tongue teased, and finally her knees gave out and she was falling.

Logan caught her and swept her up into his arms. He carried her to his bed and lay her upon it. Before Annika could recover her senses he had ripped her last remaining garment from her and tossed it aside. He was over her in an instant, covering her completely.

His mouth crashed down on hers and for a moment their teeth clattered together, but they quickly found a smooth rhythm of sensual tongue sliding and suckling kisses that had them both panting in moments. Annika pushed at his chest and Logan obligingly let her have her way. She pulled back from their kiss and pushed him onto his back. She gazed down at him and her body's tingling instantly told her she approved of every inch of him.

He lay still, allowing her scrutiny, but she saw his fists clench with the effort. He was doing his best to allow her to set the pace.

"You're incredibly beautiful, Logan," she said huskily, and pressed her hand flat onto his chest. She felt the springy black hairs there and smiled with delight as she laced her fingers beneath them. The curls tickled slightly and she liked the feel. Logan closed his eyes as she explored him.

Annika ran her palm over his tight little nipples. Interesting. They tightened even more when she teased them so. She then bent down to lick one, and he gasped. She took it into her mouth and gently nipped it. A hand suddenly seized her hair and held her to him as she teased the tiny bud with her tongue and edges of her teeth.

"Annika..."

She was so pleased to hear him say her name like that! Yet, she also couldn't help but wonder if he had said other women's names the same way. Had they pleased him as much? Had he felt this pleasure from them, or worse, _more_ pleasure?

She hadn't realised that she had paused until she found herself being pushed upwards. Logan's hands cupped her breasts firmly and squeezed until she gasped. He flicked his thumbs over her nipples and he stared at her until she returned his gaze.

"Annika, don't think for a moment that I've ever known what it was to truly love, need, and want, until now. Until you."

How did he know? But of course she knew how he did. Their very souls were entangled with each others whether they willed it or not. Of course they did will it, but still, that very connection allowed for a silent communion that simply was not possible otherwise. Did all lovers share this sort of bond?

Annika doubted it. She didn't know why, but she felt absolutely certain that few had such a bond as the one she and Logan shared. She shuddered as her nipples became so sensitised that they ached at his slightest touch.

Her head lolled back as he now tugged at them, but he didn't stop speaking. "We are bonded, you and I, and no matter what happens, we always will be." His voice was still soft, but the confidence that was a part of him blanketed her with its certainty and comfort. "You belong to me, my Annika." She moaned and her breasts began to feel very heavy. The throbbing between her legs intensified and she gasped when she felt one of his hands slide between them. "And I belong to you. Utterly. Forever."

Annika tried to speak, to tell him that she believed him, but words were beyond her. The hand on her breast and the one sliding into her maiden flesh made speech, much less coherent thought, impossible.

Her hair flew about and covered her face as she somehow fell onto her back. Logan was once more atop her and his mouth was now at her throat, kissing and suckling a trail down to her breasts. The other was stroking the wetness between her legs until that wetness grew very warm and incredibly slick. When his teeth fixed on her nipple firmly and tugged, she cried out his name. Her back arched and his fingers slid up to the tiny nub of flesh that she had only discovered recently when she lay in bed. Well, she had known about it, but never that it could be so sensitive to the touch!

Her own desperate touches did little for her, but Logan's...oh, gods! The sensitivity was beyond anything she had ever known. But his touch did not linger only there. His thumb replaced his finger and the roughness of it made her nub so stiff that it seemed ready to burst. As his thumb circled and teased, his inserted a finger inside of her sopping entrance. The finger plunged and crooked, located an incredibly responsive spot inside her and suddenly fluid began to seep.

"Oh, my!" she gasped and tried to sit up. "I've...I've..."

He chuckled. "No, you didn't piss yourself," he said, "you're releasing the womanly fluids that prove that I'm arousing you in a way you like."

"But..."

"Trust me, Annika." He then brought a wet finger to her lips. "Taste."

She sniffed, and then licked his finger. There was a faint taste of something sweet there.

"You see? This is what I want most to taste of your delectable little body, my love. Now, lay still and let me do as I will."

Reassured, she obeyed. He had her raise her hips and inserted a pillow beneath her. Then he instructed her to part her thighs. She obeyed and he eased his head between them. She watched him, fascinated, as he gently parted her pink folds with his fingers and saw his tongue dart out to lick them.

Her head slammed back onto the mattress and she almost bucked out of his hands. She heard him chuckle again as she settled and relaxed once more. His fingers caressed her outer flesh, and his tongue flattened and lapped her entire slit. Oh, it felt wondrous! It felt as if all her nerve-endings were all in that one place. Her body tensed and stiffened, only to relax at his next long lick, which would both soothe and stimulate her.

Slowly, so slowly, Logan licked her from top to bottom, again and again, varying the pressure and timing of his strokes, and Annika felt the warmth of her juices seep from her some more. Each time they did he lapped them up greedily. Every so often he would stiffen his tongue and tease at her...her...

"This is your clitoris, Annika," he murmured, "but it is usually called the 'clit.' It is the most sensitive place on your body. Most men don't know how to properly pleasure a woman and they overdo the stimulation instead of building it gradually and properly. But for you, I know exactly what to do. Just relax and trust me."

And he did. Her Logan used his lips and tongue to gently and slowly coax her body into an every-growing tenseness that no longer eased. Instead, it built more and more until she was aching all over and craving a release that she didn't understand.

Logan did not give it to her. He continued to slowly lick and tease her now hyper-sensitive flesh. He then inserted two fingers inside her slick tight passage and fixed his mouth over her clit. He suckled earnestly and when it was fully inside his mouth he firmly pressed his tongue down and flicked it rapidly back and forth. His fingers bent inside of her and he thrust them faster and harder.

Annika's breathing was now so ragged and desperate that she was nearly choking. Her body suddenly was completely out of her control. Involuntarily, she struggled and writhed. But Logan had apparently been expecting this because he was able to hold her firmly as she thrashed more and more violently. !

"Lo...Lo...Logan!" she cried out, "help me!" She didn't understand what was happening to her. She couldn't control herself at all! Was this how she was supposed to react?

"Just let go, my love," he said, then fixed his mouth on her tiny nubbin again. It was so sensitive that it almost hurt, but in a most delicious way.

Suddenly her entire body convulsed. Her eyes squeezed shut of their own accord and blinding lights flashed inside her head. She felt as if she was no longer in her body, yet she was aware that her thighs were clamping tightly around Logan's head and that her body was heaving and spasming and leaking once more.

Oh, gods, the pleasure was positively celestial! She was in a place of absolute bliss, and her love, her Logan, was able to help her stay there for many, many moments. But then, inevitably, the pleasure became too much for her body to bear and she gradually descended from the realm she had just visited.

Logan was helping her, she knew. He gently eased her from her peak with gentle and slow licks and thrusts of his fingers. When he withdrew his fingers at last, he snaked his tongue softly over her pink and swollen flesh before finally withdrawing to press tiny fluttering kisses along her inner thighs.

"Logan..."

"Shhh..."

She sighed in peace and contentment and allowed herself to bask in this incredible glory and afterglow of love. He hadn't taken her as she had hoped he would, but he had still given her a priceless gift. She now understood what he had meant about his past women. She knew that he had not used his mouth on them the way he had on her. He had not been inclined to be so...intimate with them. Still, she wasn't sure if she was grateful to the one who had taught him, or ragingly jealous.

Both, she finally decided. Logan did not love that other; he loved _her. _Still, she had a jealous heart where her Logan was concerned. But he also had one for her. She had heard or read somewhere that love was supposed to be unselfish and not jealous. Complete bollocks.

Love was love and it was different for everyone. So she and Logan was selfish with each other. Why would that be wrong? Simple, she knew; it wasn't. It was the way they were. For them, possession was a part of their love. And who out there in that vast world would not be angry, hurt, and jealous if their loved one lay with another?

But for Logan, that was all in the past now.

Then she sucked in a worried breath. It was...wasn't it? She was soon leaving for what could be a long time. Could she really expect him to remain faithful to her during her absence? Perhaps, she reasoned. After all, he hadn't had a woman for several years. He was too busy with running the Kingdom to be troubled with one and he literally had no time.

Still, after what she had just experienced, wouldn't he occasionally want that same relief from time to time? And...she wouldn't be there to offer it to him.

"_Stop it!" _she told herself sternly. She had to stop this jealousy and fear or it would eat her alive.

Logan moved over her and kissed her so deeply and lovingly that her doubts began to melt away. Again, however, he seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Annika, I love you," he said, his eyes looking both soft and pained.

"And I love you, Logan," she said. She took his face between her hands. "Why do you look sad?"

"I'm not sad," he said, "you've given me the most precious thing in all Creation. You've given me your love."

"But you still fear that you'll lose it."

He touched his nose to hers. "I do."

"You won't."

"Please, Annika...I have a boon to ask of you."

"Anything."

He smiled gently and rubbed his nose across hers lovingly. "I'll not hold you to that, my love, for what I ask is very great indeed."

"Ask." She ran her fingers through his silky hair and kissed him lightly.

"Please, I know I haven't the right...but please, my Annika, until we reunite, no matter what happens, and no matter what I may...may have to do, please...please don't lay with another man. Wait for me. Allow me to explain everything. Please."

His eyes misted with tears and Annika felt her heart clench.

"Logan, I swear! I...I don't know what you may do, but I know you may do terrible things, indeed. But I'll keep an open mind and I promise...I _swear _that I won't lay with another. But only on one condition."

"Name it!" he said eagerly, hope flaring in his expression.

"You won't lay with anyone, either."

"I swear."

He was so confident and sure that she felt it radiate from the depths of his very being.

"I swear, too, Logan. I love you."

"I love _you_, Annika, with all that I am. I may do monstrous things, as I've said, but please, I beg of you, don't judge me until...until a certain day comes. You and I will both know that day. You'll then know all. And no matter what you decide, know that any other promises I may break in the meantime, I won't break any to you."

"Logan, that sounds odd." Her brow furrowed. "How can you be honourable to me and not to someone else?"

"There is a difference between promises made in good faith where politics and realities of the land are concerned and promises to the loved one of the heart."

"Ah, I see," she said. And she did.

"I'll trust you, Logan. But you must trust me, too."

"I will. But remember that I am a jealous and possessive man," he said, his eyes narrowing. "I may unreasonably be jealous of men you will spend time with. And though I know that you won't be..." He cleared his throat. "I won't be able to stem the occasional jealous fear."

Annika smiled and kissed him soundly. "I am the same way, Logan. I'm jealous of all the women in your past."

"You don't need to be."

"I know, but I am. Do not lay with, keep company with, or even appear to encourage another woman, do you hear me? I won't have it." Her voice and resolution was firm, and she knew her eyes glittered with fierce determination and command.

Logan smiled, genuinely pleased. "I bend to your will, my love. Already you are becoming the woman I always hoped you'd be. I am King and may demand anything of anyone, but you are the one being in all the world who can demand anything of me and bring me to my knees at your slightest whim."

Annika smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 8**

"Why haven't you asked me about..." and a corner of Logan's mouth quirked in amusement, "ah...Poopsie?"

Annika blushed. She always did when he teased her about her beloved dog's name. He had gifted her with her faithful friend on her fifteenth birthday and against Logan's advice, had staunchly insisted on referring to the black Doberman as "Poopsie."

"Well," she said, giggling now, "I could change his name to 'Logie Poo.'"

Logan winced. "Please, don't even tease about that!"

She burst into laughter and knelt down to hug her canine friend. "I've missed you, Poopsie! But I know that Logan has taken good care of you. I've barely seen you for weeks, but I know it must have been for a good reason! Did he need you to lick his ankles while poring over dull correspondence in his pajamas? Or warm his bed before I took over that most pleasant of duties?"

Logan chuckled and coloured slightly. "Annika!"

A messenger entered the room and handed Logan a note. Logan opened it, quickly scanned the contents, and frowned. He sighed heavily and dismissed the messenger. He looked at Annika and she saw that he was deeply troubled.

She stood and embraced him, pressing as much of her body against his as she could. She knew he had been waiting for an opportunity to speak with her seriously this morning, but she was feeling too wonderful. Even he had been in optimistic spirits. Or had been, before that mysterious message arrived. They had spent every night together and even though Logan still refrained from taking Annika's virginity, neither lacked for quantity, not to mention quality, of passion and love.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and held her even tighter. "My Annika...my love." His voice was tender, yet strained.

She decided to take pity upon him.

"Logan, dearest, speak! What is it? You keep telling me I'll have to leave soon, and I feel it, too. But that is not what is troubling you right now, is it? There is something, and there is the matter of what is in that note!"

You are right, love, but I must be brief. There is something I must attend to, and this..."

Annika hadn't believed it possible that he could hold her any more tightly or closely, but he managed it.

"I...this...this will perhaps be your first test of faith in me, my Annika. Please...please...if you can keep your word..."

"I can and I will," she said resolutely, still annoyed that he doubted her.

"Then I beg you, yes, beg you, to unconditionally love me and not judge me until you return a Hero. Now, go to your chambers. Take...Poopsie with you. He is now very well trained in various ways that will assist you. Go and..." Logan pushed her back just enough to kiss her fiercely, desperately, and needfully. She saw tears mist his eyes. He saw her fearful look and swallowed hard.

"Just...go, Annika. If this...duty is not as bad as I fear, I'll see you for luncheon. If it goes badly...remember that I love you with all my heart. Ask me no questions; just go. Now!"

Annika lay on her bed and it felt foreign and unwelcoming to her. She longed to be back in their...Logan's bed, even if he was not with her. After many long minutes of restless pacing she had at last forced herself to lay down and curl onto her side.

Something was happening, but what? Her ever-faithful butler and friend, Jasper, came into the room and quietly announced to her that there would be several executions in the courtyard and that King Logan had specifically ordered him to close the drapes and instruct her to not look outside.

Annika bolted upright. "Executions?" She felt a knot form in her belly. Although she knew that executions were sometimes deemed necessary for Rulers on occasion, the very idea of them still sickened her.

"Yes, Princess," Jasper said, a sympathetic note in his voice. The old butler was as a grandfather to her, and he loved her deeply, as she did him. He was always attempting to not only serve her as a Princess, but to care for her as someone he dearly loved.

"There are three soldiers who have committed treason. They have been discovered attempting to steal military information. They were also found with..." Jasper cleared his throat nervously.

"With what?" Annika prompted. "Jasper, tell me!"

"Found with correspondence coming from a woman named Page, who is apparently an Underground Revolutionary plotting against the King."

"Page?" Annika rolled the name about her tongue. And then she remembered. "I know that name! There are posters of her all over the city, yes? She has been attempting to stir the people against Logan. She was among the first to call him...tyrant."

"_What do you believe creates a tyrant, Annika?"_

"I believe so, yes," Jasper said. He peeked outside.

"Your Highness, please cover your ears," he said.

Annika did so, but not because she had never heard executions before, but because she knew that Logan did not want her to hear. Or at least he wanted her to hear as little as possible. He always had tried to shield her from such things. It was a futile gesture, obviously, but it meant much to him to protect her in even the smallest of ways, so she did her best to oblige.

She lay back down and pressed a pillow over her head. Still, she heard Logan's muffled voice, the voices of several other men, and after a few moments of silence, the rapid and merciless sound of guns being fired.

She was thankful she did not see, nor hear, the bodies fall. Still, at least there was proof that these men had indeed been plotting against Logan. They were not executed on little or no evidence. Still, the fact that people, even now, were risking their lives to rebel against her Logan hurt. It hurt, and it caused a feeling of terror to sweep over her entire being.

It truly hit her now. People wanted to overthrow him! People were plotting! There was an Underground, and there were likely plans in the making. Even Walter had mentioned revolution the other day as they sparred.

He had been very lucky that Logan had arrived after speaking such seditious words. But Annika would ask Walter about them. She had been in too much shock to ask him then, and was not accustomed to questioning her mentor about anything.

But she would have to now. The situation everyone seemed to be aware of except her was far more serious than she could have guessed. Of course she had known, somewhat, but the gravity had never seemed so great.

Even Logan...he knew that today's event would be serious. And it terrified him. He had not wanted this to happen. She had seen it in his eyes, felt it in the tremor of his body and how it radiated from his heart. He had begged her to love him and not judge him.

He had been afraid, and not just for his Kingship. He was afraid for the Kingdom. And he was absolutely terrified of losing her.

So why add fuel to the fire, so to speak? Wouldn't executing more people only serve to make the existing situation and discontent worse?

Yet, if she were in his place, it could be, or would be, absolutely necessary to first and foremost keep control over the Kingdom. Perhaps that was one of the necessities that Logan faced. He had to keep control, even if it caused fear and resentment.

But how long could this last? How long could he hold out?

She sat up and dropped the pillow. Was this her role? Was she supposed to help maintain the solidarity of the Kingdom until, as Logan had said, 'a certain day?'

" _I beg you to unconditionally love me and not judge me until you return a Hero."_

He was so sure she was a Hero and that she would walk a difficult path and then return someday.

Annika dropped her head and tears slid down her cheeks without her heaving so much as heaved a single sob. It was as if she were too sad to cry. Too resigned.

"Miss Annika? I believe Sir Walter is on his way here."

"_...remember that I love you with all my heart. Ask me no questions; just go."_

It was beginning.

"Jasper, Princess, we are leaving at once! We must flee the castle!" Walter bellowed as he stormed into the chamber without so much as knocking. "We can wait no longer."

"I'll pack a few items," Jasper said, too nonplussed for Annika's liking.

"We haven't time! Princess, we must leave now! Please, trust me and let us leave here at once!"

Almost mechanically Annika stood. Poopsie snuggled against her leg to comfort her. He felt her distress.

"But Walter, is it really necessary to go now? Can I not even say good-bye to Logan?"

"Logan is the reason we must flee! None of us are safe here any longer. Follow me!"

It was as if Walter were following a well-rehearsed script. Numb and slightly queasy, Annika knew it was time to take the stage. It was time for her part in this Grand Play to begin. There wasn't even the remotest possibility that Logan would kill her if she remained. If anyone was in danger from him, it was Walter. However, she knew she had to follow the path Logan had done his best to prepare her for.

"Come on, Poopsie!" she urged wearily. "We have to go, it seems, no matter what I think or how I feel. My part is scripted and isn't one I can or should change. Apparently."

Her sarcasm didn't make her feel any better. However, Poopsie's reassuring lick to her palm, did.

"We are we going, exactly?" Annika panted as Walter lead the way outside and Jasper huffed and puffed behind them.

"Where I should have taken you long ago, I fear," Walter replied. The large man lead them to the entrance to the Catacombs.

"The Catacombs...where my parents are buried?" Annika asked. "You want me to leave the Palace, you won't let me say good-bye to Logan, but I can pay my respects to our parents?"

Walter opened the door and ushered the party inside. "This is for more than paying our respects, Princess," he said. "This...this will start us on our journey towards freedom for Albion."

Annika suddenly stood still and angrily placed her hands on her hips. "I know I may seem to be acting like a child, Walter, but I refuse to take another step until you explain yourself! Days ago you mentioned something about a revolution and don't tell me why or how, and today you usher me away from my home! I'm not going any further without some concrete answers!"

Walter sighed. "Please, Princess, just come inside and I'll answer your questions. There is no time to waste!"

Rather petulantly, Annika obeyed. She was already resenting being forced away from not only her Logan, but everything she knew. Yes, she reluctantly told herself, she was likely a latent Hero and had to follow a long and tedious Path, but really, did she need to be dragged away so dramatically? People could think what they wanted of Logan, but she didn't see why she had to leave so suddenly without so much as a single word or a reassuring hug.

Of course, he had just had three men executed in the Court Yard, so Walter was likely just looking after, or so he believed, her safety. Still...

"Please, Princess, hurry!"

Annika rushed after Walter as he lead the party to the stone sarcophagi that cradled the bodies of the former King and Queen of Albion.

She sobered instantly. The last time she had been here was with Logan on the anniversary of their mother's death. She recalled shedding tears onto Logan's comforting shoulder as he held her while she cried. She always cried when she remembered her mother's death.

Logan had been only seventeen and Annika ten. Annika barely remembered their father at all, but their mother was always tender and loving to her and Logan. When she died young, it broke Annika's heart. Logan not only had to assume the crown, but take care of her as well. He did his very best to be a good Ruler for the Kingdom at such a young age, and also to see to the care and education of his younger sister as well.

They had become close, but more as friends than brother and sister. Yet, at the same time, Logan was always protective over Annika and she looked to him for guidance. So, in that way they were as brother and sister, or guardian and ward. Logan resembled their father, if the portraits in the castle were accurate, and Annika their mother. Neither inherited any physical characteristics of both. Annika had always wondered why that was. Then again, not every sibling had to share a resemblance.

Regardless, the present was an entirely different matter. She and Logan certainly did not love each other as brother and sister, but as a man and a woman, regardless of any blood between them. And when her mind flashed back to almost a year earlier, on the anniversay of their mother's passing, Logan had held her for over an hour while she cried. He hadn't minded her getting his uniform wet with her tears, nor her clutching and scrabbling at his chest and back with her nails during the worst of her sobbing.

Even now, Annika wasn't sure why she cried. Of course she remembered Amalia Sparrow, and remembered her love, but her own sadness seemed to come from some other source; one which she still could not understand or pinpoint.

Logan had told her that perhaps she had a void inside her from being bereft of both parents at such a tender age. What he did not say, but Annika sensed, was that he felt she cried because he had not done enough for her while she grew up an orphan. He felt that he had failed her as a guardian, and as someone who loved her and had her welfare and best interests at heart.

That was nonsense, of course. Only this past year was Annika able to ease away such notions from his mind. She was simply an emotional young woman and prone to be dramatic at times. Couldn't it be as simple as that?

Or could it also be because...

"I think you were always meant to have this; your mother's most prized possession," Walter suddenly said, finishing the thought Annika was approaching.

Perhaps she had known, deep inside, that she was destined to become Albion's next Hero, and she was frightened. No, more than frightened. Terrified. Utterly and completely terrified.

What if she was the Hero, but failed her Logan? Albion? Even Poopsie, Walter, and Jasper? Not all Heroes were successful. And even if they were, not all became benevolent ones.

Walter pushed a brick into the wall before the pair of sarcophagi and pulled a hidden lever. The statue between them uncovered its face and the lowered hands held what Annika instantly identified as the Guild Seal.

She hesitated, her hands hovering uncertainly above it.

"Take it!" Walter urged, and Jasper leaned over Annika's shoulder, eager for the young woman to take it.

The Princess sighed with a mixture of dread, anticipation, and fear as her fingertips were about to touch it.

Then, a long and agonized scream pierced the quiet of the evening. Grief and despair were so prevalent in it that the Princess froze in place and her entire body suddenly went cold.

For she recognized the source of that awful cry at once.

It was Logan.


	9. Chapter 9

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 9**

"By the gods," Annika whispered hoarsely, "that's Logan! He...he knows I've gone!"

"Then hurry! We can't dally any longer!" Walter snapped.

Annika's anger at her mentor's callousness bubbled to her lips and threatened to spill forth, but by a supreme effort at self-control, she managed to maintain some semblance of calm. She swallowed the angry words she was about to speak.

Heart breaking with the utter desolation and agony her flight was inflicting upon her beloved Logan, Annika took the Guild Seal into her hands.

"She was able to take it!" she heard Walter say joyously.

But she barely heard him, for a fog suddenly enveloped her and a surge of something that felt like electric jolts shot through her entire body, momentarily paralysing her. Her entire world became a swirl of colours and cacophanous sound. She squeezed her eyes closed, willing the dizzying sensations that also began to assail her to stop.

Suddenly everything did stop. It was if everything was dead. No sound at all. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Before her stood a woman wearing a white and red striped gypsy gown. Her face was partially obscured by a hood, but even beneath it Annika could see the woman's white eyes.

Damnation! It was Theresa. Yes, Annika knew exactly who this woman was. She had heard the stories and read the tales. The Blind Seer of the Spire, and her mother's guide, was standing before her now.

However, even as a child, Annika had never made up her mind whether this woman was a force for good or evil. Were her intentions towards those she guided for her own gain, or theirs? Or both?

For Annika, the Princess of Albion, the greyness that coloured the landscape in which she found herself now perfectly described her ambivalent feelings for the woman. But she also hoped that the Seer did not know of her mixed feelings and doubts about her and her motivations.

"Why am I here?" she asked only.

"I am Theresa," the woman said in a kind and sagely manner.

"Yes, I know who you are," Annika said. "I remember what my mother told me and I've read the books. You have lived for centuries and reside in the Spire. I...I suppose that means that Walter and my brother are right about me. And I hold the Guild Seal, so that means..."

Annika's courage wavered. She had not been prepared for the aura of power and authority that the blind woman exuded. A few moments ago it had been one of confidence, but Annika now feared that perhaps her doubts were known to her and Theresa was not pleased.

But her fears began to dissipate. Theresa exuded power and knowledge, yes, but not authority. Not absolute authority, at any rate. Something inside Annika told her that although this woman knew much, she did not have the power to read minds or force people to do her bidding. She could only manipulate them with clever words or do her best to arrange circumstances to bring about the outcomes she desired.

Still, Theresa did not necessarily have to be categorized, even in Annika's organized mind, as good nor evil. Perhaps she was simply a balance between the two, and took action when the one thing she always concerned herself with, Albion, was in peril.

Forcing herself to relax a little, Annika pressed on. "Am I a Hero? Is that why I can take the Guild Seal?"

"Yes, you are a Hero. The power is now awakening in your blood, just as it did for your mother. You must begin a journey to fulfill your potential."

"And is Walter right? Am I supposed to..." Annika forced back the tears that tried to form in her eyes. "Am I supposed to lead a revolution? Against my brother? Against Logan?"

Theresa nodded. "With your brother on the throne Albion will be doomed. I have seen this. He cannot save the Kingdom from what will be coming. You must gather allies even as you develop the potential within you. You have Sir Walter Beck and Jasper, and also your faithful dog, by your side. They will follow wherever you lead."

"But...revolution?"

"Is essential," Theresa replied without emotion. "You make your own Path, Princess Annika, but there are still trials and events that are fixed. How you cope with and overcome them is up to you, but overcome them you must. Only then will Albion have a chance to be saved."

The old woman gestured to the Guild Seal in Annika's hands. "The fact that you can even hold the seal proves what you are. When I return you to the Catacombs, allow your potential to unlock. Allow it to become a part of you. Then you may proceed on the first step of your Journey and on your way to gathering your first allies."

"But..."

Annika found herself back in the Catacombs.

How horribly rude of Theresa! Annika wanted to stamp her foot in frustration but knew that would make her look like a petulant child rather than an aspiring Hero.

"Do you feel different?" Walter asked excitedly.

Jasper looked anxious. "Princess? Are you all right?"

Annika was amazed when the Guild Seal vanished from her hands. Where did it go?

"I...I don't know. I think so. Where did the seal go?"

"It is still with you. It will appear when you need it. That is what your mother always said."

"She never told me," Annika replied, again trying to not sound like a child.

Still...she was supposed to allow her potential to unlock. How was she to do that? She looked down as bright colours beneath her feet, blue and gold, the Guild colours, caught her attention.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind. _Very well, I'm a Hero. If I have any special powers that are supposed to help me, please unlock for me now! Logan must be so... Stop thinking of Logan! Concentrate, Annika, concentrate! Well, what is supposed to happen? Should I feel something? How do I know..."_

Her body jerked and seized and she began to spasm helplessly. Pain washed through her and she screamed. She had not been expecting pain! Wave after wave of hot agony shot through her limbs and her very blood felt on fire. Surely this was a mistake and the Guild Seal was killing her for attempting to take power that was not meant for her!

She barely heard her own screams as they continued for what seemed an eternity to her. She faintly heard Walter and Jasper shout her name desperately. She only vaguely saw her hands glow and turn orange.

And then her agony was over. Fire shot from her hands and illuminated the circle in which she was standing. The pain was gone and she felt...

How _did _she feel?

The ground split open at her feet and a long staircase was slowly revealed as the stone slid aside. The flames in her hands died down and her flesh was normal again. It was as if she had never created the flame at all.

But she felt wonderful. Powerful. Invigorated. Invincible.

Well, that last feeling was not one she should allow herself to bask in, Annika reasoned. Feeling invincible was the downfall of many a person. But the blood that now coursed through her veins was no longer simply the blood of the former Princess. It was the blood of a Hero.

She would have monitor her thoughts and feelings closely, for she suddenly understood why centuries ago the people of Albion had turned against Heroes and grew to hate them. They allowed their power to change who they were. It easily lead them to consider themselves the betters of all they met.

Annika would have to watch herself very closely. She looked at Walter and Jasper's wondering faces. She would ask them to watch her as well.

Poopsie...well, Poopsie wasn't likely to ever let his mistress know if she tread an evil path. Poopsie would accept her unconditionally. Always.

Just as she would love and accept Logan. No matter what lay ahead, her heart would not change in her love for him. Her mind could, and should, question him. But her ultimate loyalty was still with him.

However, could she allow Walter and Jasper to know that?"

"It bloody worked!" Walter bellowed. "She _is _a Hero!"

Jasper's mouth worked, but no words emerged. He seemed to be in shock.

"Let's get moving!" Walter urged. "We cannot stop now! Princess, let's go! We have a destination to reach."

"What destination?" she asked, beginning to rush down the stairs.

"I'm not sure where we will come out," Walter replied, "but I know this is our only escape route from the Castle."

"So this is my mother's Sanctuary," Annika said. "I always wondered what it looked like!"

It hadn't been difficult to reach. They had trudged through tunnels, staved off a few bats, but ended up finding the Cullis Gate that lead to this place rather easily. This time, when Annika used her Will to conjure fire from her hands to activate it, there was no pain.

No pain from her powers, she thought dismally. She was separated from Logan, and that pained her grievously.

"I didn't know it was a real place," Walter replied. "When she spoke of it to me, she made it sound as if it were a symbolic place, perhaps a place in her mind where she meditated to relax."

"As she lead me to believe, also," Jasper added. "I never knew it was a physical place. Well, if this is to be useful to the Princess at all, it will require all of my skills to make it not only functional and presentable, but...fashionable."

Walter peered at the Map Table. "Jasper, old friend, there is a book here called 'The Book of Heroes' and it has your name on it!"

"What? That isn't possible!" Jasper spluttered.

Annika ignored the men. She was impatient and itching to get on with whatever she had to do to get moving. The sooner she did the sooner it would end.

She walked to a wall with large section of recessed shelves. They were empty save for dust and cobwebs. She wondered what her mother had used them for. Surely she didn't feel the need to decorate this place. Besides, the Map Table that filled the entire center of the room was exactly like Logan's. It just showed the various places in Albion. Why couldn't her mother simply look at that one?

"So all the Hero has to do is select a place on the map and we will travel there instantly?" she heard Walter ask Jasper.

"It would seem so," the old butler replied, turning the pages of the tome.

"Wait," Annika said, "this table allows for instant travel? Like mother used to do...er...somehow?" She couldn't for the life of her recall how her mother had traveled in that fashion, but she had. Perhaps she used the Guild Seal?

She rushed to the table. She looked at it and hoped to see the Castle. Perhaps she could sneak in a visit to Logan when Walter and Jasper weren't hovering about like old mother hens.

She saw the location of the castle, as well as many other locations, but it was obvious she would not be able to instant travel. They were colourless and grey. The only bright area was the Mistpeak Dweller Camp.

"Botheration!" she swore.

"Miss?" Jasper asked, his careworn face concerned. Annika sensed that this journey, even only to this place, was about as much as he could handle.

"Jasper, you're right. I need you here. Fix this place up and see what's behind all those closed doors. And I'm angry because..." Annika sighed her annoyance. "It seems this table is rather useless! I can only travel to one place! And why would I want to travel _there?" _

"Because, Princess, that's where the revolution begins," Walter said.

Annika sighed and leaned against the Map Table. "Walter, you said you'd give me answers." The older man shifted a bit uncomfortably, but he nodded.

"My first question is this; why do you think there needs to be a revolution? I know Logan's done some...ah...unpopular things. But a revolution? Isn't that quite extreme?"

It was Walter's turn to sigh. He put an arm around Annika gingerly, as if afraid she'd flinch away. When she did not, he relaxed a little.

"Princess, there is much you don't know. Outside the castle life is very different from how you experience it. Your brother has been bleeding the city of Bowerstone dry for years. The people are so heavily taxed that there are more homeless now than in recorded history. Children seldom are seen playing or even have the opportunity because they are forced to work in the factories just to help their families earn gold for food."

Annika frowned. She had suspected the high tax rate, but had no idea that child labour was in practice. But Logan was not a cruel man!

"He has caused fear, unrest and oppression in other areas of Albion as well," Walter went on, "but we'll get into that when we reach those places. For now, suffice it to say that your brother has become known far and wide as a tyrant. People hate him, they fear him, and now there is even an Underground Resistance."

"Walter, I want to tell you something up front, before we go any further," Annika said.

"Yes, Princess?"

"I love Logan. You must know that before I take another step. I'll make my own judgments based on the facts as I see them and as they come. And even if, and I stress the word 'if' I agree to a revolution, that doesn't mean that I will do so and hate him at the same time."

Walter's shoulders drooped, but he didn't seem angry. "Princess, he's your brother. You are close to him. I would be worried if you did not love him. But your love doesn't change how others feel about him. Nor does it change the fact that you are a Hero and..."

Annika shivered. What did Walter know? Did he know about Theresa?

"And?" she prompted uneasily.

"And that you are meant to take your brother's place and become the Queen of Albion."

Annika stiffened and gasped. "Take over? Be Queen? How do you know this, Walter? Tell me!"

"I...I found out from your mother. She told me what the Seer of the Spire showed her of the future. What she saw was the Seer guiding you on your path toward revolution, developing your abilities as a Hero, and becoming Queen."

"What if I refuse to do these things?"

"Then Albion will be utterly destroyed." Walter tightened his hold around the young woman. "I don't pretend to know by who or what, but that is a fact. As long as your brother sits on the throne, Albion is headed for destruction. Nothing less than a revolution will save this land."

"What if we speak to Logan, tell him all of this, and he agrees to step down?" Annika suggested hopefully.

"That would not work, Princess. Logan is not meant, nor is he destined, to step down willingly. He will hold on to the crown until it is forced from him. And remember, Annika," Walter added, using her name for the first time in months, "all of these factors will shape you into the Hero you must be to ultimately save Albion."

"Is that all you know?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Please be honest with me, Walter." Fear once again washed over her. She had to know! Even if she was still having doubts whether she had to become a true Hero, she had to know. She _needed _to know if she could trust Walter.

"Yes, Princess, that is all I know. I know how we can achieve the ends, but I know nothing more of the Prophecy. Your mother became silent on that point during the last years of her life. She said that she had told me all I needed to know. And now you know as much as I do."

"I still love Logan," she whispered. She knew Walter had no idea in what ways and how much she loved him, but she felt compelled to say the words nonetheless.

"I know," he said softly and drew her into his enormous arms for a comforting hug. "I'm not asking you to hate him. I'll never ask you to hate him. I just ask that you do your best to fulfill your destiny and I promise I'll do my best to help you."

She leaned into him and relaxed. His largeness was a comfort. She felt so small and helpless all of a sudden. Walter's bear hug and his obvious love for her was not a substitute for Logan's love, but it was something.

She looked over to Jasper and the old man smiled. Poopsie licked her hand and rubbed his head against her thigh.

Yes, her companions did offer some comfort, at least.

None of them saw the packages that suddenly appeared on the recessed shelves Annika had observed earlier.


	10. Chapter 10

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

Note - the Bag of Holding is a concept by the creators of "Dungeons and Dragons."

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 10**

"It...it appears that these shelves can bring you gifts, Princess," Jasper said, his typical habit of stating the obvious intact despite the dinginess and uncertainty of their present situation.

"So it would seem," Annika said, approaching the shelves cautiously. "But how? And how do I know who or what sent them?"

She reached for a package wrapped in plain white paper but Walter seized her wrist and stopped her motion.

"Princess, we don't know if these are safe. I think you should back far away and I'll open the first one."

"But if they weren't safe, why are there six of them? There are only three of us. Surely if someone planted a bomb in one that would be all it would take to kill us. No, Walter, I think these are safe."

"Besides," Jasper said, his voice nervous but slightly more optimistic at Annika's reasoning, "they are all wrapped in different colours of paper. Plainly that is to bring a festive or symbolic air to the receiver."

"Which, I think I can safely assume, is me," Annika concluded.

Walter reluctantly released her wrist and she seized the white package. It was a simple box about fourteen inches square and wrapped perfectly. She herself could never wrap a gift perfectly. There was always a flaw somewhere. Logan, however...

And she gasped softly. These must be from Logan! It made perfect sense. Though how he managed to send them to her she could not imagine. As King, what other secrets did he hold besides those regarding his rulership of Albion?

Annika eagerly tore open the package. It was about fourteen inches square and four inches thick. Inside was a bag of purple velvet that was pristinely folded; Logan-style, she dubbed it. She unfolded the bag and it draped to approximately three feet long with an opening tied closed with a sort of silky cord.

"A...velvet bag?" she stammered. "Why ever would Lo...someone...send me a bag?"

"Let me see that!" Walter burst out excitedly. Annika handed it to him and he opened the drawstring and reached inside.

"Ha ha!" he roared in laughter, "this is no ordinary bag, Princess, this is a Bag of Holding!" His arm disappeared completely inside and Annika felt her eyes widen and her jaw drop.

"A...what?"

"I've heard of those!" Jasper said, now equally as excited as Walter. "Your Majesty, these are very rare and incredibly useful magical items. You can fit an infinite amount of objects in them and they take up no room on this Plane of Existance at all! As long as the item you place inside can fit into the opening, it can be any size or shape."

"But...where do they stay?"

"Another Plane," Walter said. "Nobody really knows, Princess. However, through the ages these have been rare items indeed. Imagine how useful it will be! You can put almost anything you need in here! See? The opening stretches to nearly three feet! While items are inside the bag collapses to practically nothing. You can even fold it and put it in your pocket, or wear it looped about your belt."

Eager now, Annika snatched it from him.

"But I felt..." Walter began.

Annika ignored him. She reached inside and...he was right! She felt something. It was long, slender, and made of wood. She pulled it out. It was a shovel. She handed it to Jasper and reached in again. To her surprise and delight, she found the handle of a weapon and drew it out. A long silver sword with purple leather intertwined with silver on its hilt. Then she pulled out a final item. A rifle. It appeared to be a fine item; just as fine as the sword. She handed them to Jasper, who managed to hold them elegantly along with the shovel.

Logan had sent her items that he knew she would find useful on her journey; not to mention the bag itself. She felt her chest warm inside and her belly tingle.

He missed her already, just as she missed him; but he was still looking out for her! That gave her a feeling of hope and optimism. Her Logan was still with her.

"I...I would like to open the rest of these privately," she said softly.

"If you are certain, Princess," Jasper said, bowing.

"I am. I think I know who these are coming from. Surely I'm allowed some privacy?"

"Of course," Walter replied, slanting a look at her that told her he suspected who her gift-giver was. "But please, if anything looks dangerous or out of the ordinary, let us see it."

"As out of the ordinary as this bag?" she teased.

Walter chuckled and clapped Jasper on the shoulder.

"She has the right of it, old friend. Let us retreat to whatever is behind that first door."

Jasper flinched. "But it's covered with cobwebs! I don't have any cleaning implements yet, and suppose some of those webs are still...inhabited?"

"Ha ha! Are you afraid of spiders?" Walter teased good-naturedly. "Don't fear, I have my sword. I won't allow one to so much as touch your fine clothes and perfectly coiffed hair."

Her two friends retreated and Annika looked down at her faithful dog. "Poopsie, I can't wait to see what else he sent, can you?"

The doberman whined in agreement and the Princess giggled. She seized one wrapped in black paper. It was large and heavy; easily four feet long and and a fourteen inches thick. She huffed with the weight of it and laid it carefully upon the floor. She sat. Eagerly, she unwrapped the package and lifted the lid of the box inside.

She gasped. "Poopsie, look!" She reached inside and pulled out an elegant gown of silk. It was lavender and white with a deep purple velvet lace-up bodice. Of course Logan had not forgotten lavender gloves, shoes, and stockings. The ensemble was very formal and more than fit for a Princess.

Beneath the dress, which she lay carefully inside the lid of the box, was another outfit. It was not as elegant, but was still of fine quality. It was a simpler dress made of cotten. It was elegant, yet simple, and lacked the lace and elaborate bodice of the first, but it was more practical and far less ostentatious. She could wear this to many social events and not stand out unduly. It was, like the other gown, lavender and white.

Annika smiled. He would never forget their shared favourite colour! He had provided her with a simple ladies hat with this one. Small, and again, not overly showy. It had a simple fabric flower fastened to one side. Lovely! And the shoes, too, were attractive but of a more practical nature. They were black lace-up half-boots. Obviously, the dress would conceal them and he meant for them to be able to be worn with almost any clothing of her choosing. The leather was fine and sturdy, but just flexible enough to be comfortable.

There was one final outfit in the box, and it was one that Annika knew, with a somewhat sinking heart, that she would be wearing quite often. It was a set of men's traveling clothing. Trousers, boots, shirt, and gloves. This ensemble was black and tailored to fit Annika. Obviously, Logan had indeed been pondering before she left him on what she could use during her time away.

The warm feeling she had faded somewhat. This outfit made it all the more real that she wasn't going to be returning to Logan any time soon.

Well, perhaps the next package would cheer her, although she knew that hope was selfish. She needed practical items, not sentimental ones. Still, she couldn't help but hope for sentimental. She hadn't been gone long, but she missed him dreadfully. Something more personal would...

"Stop it!" she whispered to herself. "It seems all I have been doing is looking for comfort and reassurance and I haven't even been gone a single day!"

Poopsie nudged his hand under her arm and rested his head on her thigh. Annika smiled and scratched behind his ears. His contented whine lifted her spirits a little.

She stood and went to take the package wrapped in green. It was smaller than the others, only about twelve inches square. She tore off the paper and tossed it to the floor. Yes, it was selfish to leave a mess for Jasper, but she would apologize to him later. Besides, there was no other place for the paper!

She lifted the lid. Inside was a small stack of documents. When she perused them, she saw that Logan had prepared numerous "identities" for her. All false, of course, but officially notarized. He had spared no time and effort on her behalf, and she felt tears prick her eyes.

She was a shopkeeper, a traveling merchant, and a music teacher. Obviously for when she was more accomplished, she was a sailor, a mercenary, and even a private in the King's army. The last one took Annika's breath away. He knew she could well be his nemesis on her Path, but he trusted her enough to allow her access into his army should she desire it?

Not for a single moment did she believe he gave her that option to lure her into a trap. Logan trusted her implicitely and made it plain that he wanted, or rather, _needed, _her to succeed.

The last piece of paper had only his handwriting on it, and to be safe, he kept it perfunctory and brief.

"_If you need or desire anything, send word to me."_

Annika frowned at the last word. She thought the word was 'me' but squinted to be certain. And then a terrible aching filled her heart. The word was blurred because the it had absorbed Logan's tears. She gently traced the water damage, and then raised it to her lips, carefully kissing it.

She would_ have_ to succeed. Not only for Albion, but selfishly; she wanted to succeed for him. For her Logan. She would not let him down. She would do as she must and return. She would not disappoint him. Even now, the thought of his pain, sadness, and lonliness was almost more than she could bear.

Annika dashed away the tears that began to trail down her own cheeks and reached for the next box. This one was yellow and so heavy she had difficulty lifting it and setting it upon the floor with the others.

Inside were many, many gold pieces. Amongst the gold were pieces of jewelry and gems, obviously for her to sell so that she would have money.

Well, she had already reasoned that Logan was taxing the citizenry so highly because the Treasury was cash poor. She would use this wisely. She would invest and make the money grow. When she would return to Logan at last, she would do so not only as a Hero, but an extremely wealthy one, at that. And Logan could have every bit of it to use as he deemed fit.

He had told her she would have more opportunites than he, and this must certainly be part of what he meant. She had various options for making money, and he did not. His avenues were very limited, but for her, the opportunities would be numerous.

She swore to make the most of them.

Next was the box wrapped in orange. It was very light and contained a letter of credit with his signature and the Royal Seal. She had only to go to any weapons shop in Albion, and, by order of the Crown, have an unlimited supply of ammunition for her rifle, and any and all repairs to her weapons attended to and billed to the King.

Logan was indeed doing is best for her! She hoped, however, that she would begin to make enough money off of any investment opportunities that she would not need to make use of this. Logan probably required all the money the Treasury had as it was.

The final box was purple, and she had deliberately saved that one for last. Their colour. Their colour of enduring love and loyalty. 'Logan and Annika purple', they called it.

It was smaller and fit in her lap. She inhaled deeply in anticipation mixed with trepidation before she tore off the paper. What was in here was likely to be the most personal and precious thing or things he could give her to assure her of his bond of love to her.

She was not mistaken. The first item was a high-quality parchment deed for a piece of property. A note that Logan had pinned to it read -

_My dearest and only love, this is for you. You will have complete privacy in a place as comfortable as I could make it for you. Please reside here to have peace and solitude whenever you wish. It is hidden from all eyes, even mine._

_Simply place this deed on the Map Table and it will become a destination you can travel to, as our mother once traveled, magically and instantly. The deed is simply an enchanted parchment that will allow the Map Table to recognize it as a legitmate destination._

_If ever you wish me to be with you, I am given to understand that we can meet three times and three times only, and for three hours each time. _

_As much as I long to be with you with every breath in my pitiful body and every beat of my breaking heart, do not Call to me unless you are desperate. Perhaps when you are in dire need, or when your journey nears its end, you may wish to Call me. _

_Again I find myself begging for your love and understanding. My darling Annika, please, please, no matter what happens, know me for the man I am, not the man I seem to be. Love me, and refrain from judging me until they day of your Return._

_Yours eternally,_

_Logan_

Annika burst into tears and Poopsie immediately began to desperately lick her face in an attempt to comfort her. She hugged her canine friend tightly, and, bless him, he did not mind that she cried all over his fur and squeezed him too tightly.

After many long minutes of sobbing, she was finally able to calm herself enough to place the note into her Bag of Holding. She wanted this with her at all times. No exceptions.

The next item was an ornate box crafted of silver and edged with gold. She opened it and saw items she recognized at once.

His favourite cufflinks, his first golden ring with their family crest that their mother had commissioned for him on his sixteenth birthday, and even the dagger gifted to him after his successful Royal Hunt as Crown Prince of Albion.

How precious these things were! And he had given them to her; to her!

"He wants me to keep these and think of him., Poopsie. But how could I ever do otherwise?"

And then there were several vials of...what?

She picked up the first glass vial and peered at it. She smiled. He had given her a lock of his hair! Without thinking, she twirled a red curl of her own and wished she could reciprocate the loving gesture.

Next, she examined one that contained a red and viscous fluid. What ever was that?

And then she knew. His blood. He was telling her he loved her so much he'd willingly and without hesitation shed blood, and even die, for her.

Oh, was all this getting better, or worse? Her eyes once more filled with tears, but she resolutely fought them. Not now! She had to be strong. She would have many more opportunities to cry, but now was not one of them, not with Walter and Jasper waiting for her behind a strange door in this place.

The final vial held a shard of bone. He'd told her, their first night together, that his long and deep scar was a wound he had sustained on his last journey. He told her that he had been cut deeply by an enemy's sword and that the blade had struck his ribs. While he was being treated, a physician had removed the loosened shard. Logan had kept it as a reminder of his greatest battle. That he had survived had been nothing less than a miracle.

And now he wanted her to share in that miracle. Perhaps he also believed that it would bring her luck or protection.

Regardless, it was a loving gift and one given to her from deep inside his own body.

The vials went into the Bag of Holding as well.

She would have Jasper use whatever means he knew to size the ring so that she could wear it. She would also obtain a sheath for the dagger. She would wear the cufflinks with the tailored man's travelling shirt.

She would carry her Logan and his love with her.

With those resolutions in mind she walked to the door and knocked.

"Walter! Jasper! You can come out now. We have plans to make."


	11. Chapter 11

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 11**

"Keep your wits about you!" Walter cried out as he continually slashed his sword at Annika. For her part, the Princess was dodging and rolling and leaping to her feet whenever possible to reach her sword. Walter had placed it in a rack against the far wall of what Jasper had dubbed 'The Armoury.'

"Damnation!" she cursed, once again having lost her opportunity to grasp the sword.

"I won't let up, Princess! You will have to learn to not only fight as only a Hero can, but to defend and protect yourself."

Annika knew he was right, but this was so much more difficult than it looked! She vaguely remembered her mother practicing her sparring with well-trained soldiers, including Sir Walter, and also dodging, weaving, and tumbling. Amalia Sparrow had made it appear so easy and effortless.

It was anything but. Annika had spent the last several days training with Walter and even though she was improving significantlly, she found that she still sometimes got dizzy when rolling, and even more so when regaining her footing. Every muscle and joint in her body ached, and her frustration only grew.

"We're not stopping today until you best me!" Walter said, slashing and pursuing her relentlessly.

Annika's anger threatened to get the best of her, but she did her best to quell it. Anger would not help her, it would only cause her to become reckless and thus open to attack. So, she kept dodging and rolling, over and over, and slowly, for the first time, found that Walter's voice had become an indistinct sound. She could hear him calling to her, but she could no longer discern his words.

Her body suddenly stopped aching and her focus, which had been frantic and fuzzy, sharpened. Almost of its own accord, her body leapt, rolled, and then she gained her footing. Her sword found its way into her hands and she stabbed it at Walter, who skipped back in surprise. She lunged at him and he barely blocked her blow in time.

Snarling, she surged forward again and this time her sword clashed with his so hard the large man fell to the floor. She straddled him and, as she had Logan, she pressed her forearm to his throat.

"I have you," she panted, "and I could kill you right here and now."

"Yes, you could. Well done, Princess!" His voice was filled with pride.

Annika did not release him however. She would, of course, but the odd sensation that flooded her entire being was something she would analyse first. She felt stronger and more agile, certainly, but there was something else.

"Princess?" The word reverberated clearly and unmistakably in her ears.

That was it! Her senses had become extremely keen. She slowly released Walter and sat beside him, pondering this. His voice had never been so clear and precise. She gazed at his weathered face. It was almost as if she had never seen it before. His visage had never appeared quite so leathery, quite so tough, as well as determined and kind. She also noticed a faint glow emanating from him. She intuitively knew that meant he was a good person and not prone to evil or dishonourable acts.

Her mother had never told her this! Nor had any of the books on Heroes that Logan had thrust upon her to study.

"Walter? My senses are suddenly much shaper and that is how I finally bested you. Did Mother ever tell you anything like that? That at some point in her practice she..." Annika fumbled for the words to describe what had just happened to her. "That she, all at once, felt, saw, and heard everything almost as if for the first time? And that her body, just when it was about to give in, suddenly seemed to act on its own?"

Walter's eyes rolled upwards slightly and he stroked his chin, thinking.

"I do believe so, Princess. I mean, yes, she told me something like that. I had forgotten! She said that every so often, as her skills and power increased, she felt a change come over her, and then she was ready to take on more difficult challenges."

"So every time I markedly improve I'll face tougher enemies and obstacles," Annika said wryly. "Wonderful. Just bloody wonderful."

But she couldn't help but smile. It seemed to be the natural course of things for a Hero, she assumed, and it would be best if she allowed herself to adapt rather than fight every step of the way.

"I'm proud of you," Walter said. "You may become the greatest Hero Albion has ever known." He was sincere and clearly in awe of her.

Annika flushed. "Walter, there have been many Heroes! I doubt that I will be the greatest. Besides, there is one yet among us, and he is very powerful, indeed."

"Yes," Walter said bitterly, "Reaver. Why couldn't Garth or Hammer have been the one to be immortal?"

"Because they weren't evil," Annika said and shrugged. "Only Reaver was selfish enough to sacrifice everything and everyone for his own sake."

She momentarily had a troubling thought. Would she do the same for herself and Logan if such a chance presented itself? To live forever with him by her side? What would she be willing to sacrifice to obtain such a thing?

Walter nodded. "And now we're stuck with that old pirate turned industrial tyrant." Then he put an arm around Annika.

"You did well today. Go and rest. I think that tomorrow we're ready to leave here and recruit our first Allies. You are ready."

* * *

><p>Annika didn't feel as ready as Walter apparently thought she was as she stood shivering before a huge locked wooden gate in the Mistpeak Dweller Camp. All the Dwellers were miserable; every last one. Even every child. Nobody had a smile or anything to say beyond how hungry and forsaken they were by the King. Having never seen or felt poverty or starvation herself, she was shocked to her core at witnessing the very real human suffering up close.<p>

Annika gave out a few gold coins to the children who clutched at her trousers and their tears of gratitude tore at her heart. She murmured that she would do her best to ease their lot. And she meant it.

"The people here are people Logan has truly forsaken," Walter said sadly, looking at the misery all around them.

"Forsaken? That's a strong word," Annika said, but had a sinking feeling that the older man was right.

"He's been cutting down their forests and now they have very little to hunt," Walter explained. He kept his tone even in order to not upset the Princess, who he knew loved her brother. "They are starving. They also face death from the cold because wood for burning is becoming ever more scarce. I'm sorry, Princess, but this is Logan's doing. If he hadn't given over the forests here to Reaver and his factories, these people would be hale and hearty. As it stands, however, you must set all that aside for now."

Annika took a deep breath. "I'll try," she said firmly. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to convince the Elder, a proud old sod named Sabine, that you are not only a Hero, but can be trusted to restore their mountains to them once you become Queen. He won't be easy to convince, but I think he'll come around if you can prove what you are."

"I'm the King's sister," Annika replied, "why would he care if I am a Hero or not? Wouldn't the fact that I am the Princess make him distrust me regardless of whether or not he believes me to be a Hero?"

"No, I don't believe so. You are not at the castle, are you? Besides, he knows me and listens to my council. I think that if you can persuade him of your good intentions that he and his people will be the first to side with us in the revolution."

Annika shivered again and Walter patted her back reassuringly. "Don't worry, Annika. I'll speak to him alone first. You wait here and I'll come and fetch you."

While two burly fur-covered men opened the gate, Annika seated herself by a nearby fire where several women were talking. Poopsie ran about and played with the children.

"So, who are you?" one elderly woman asked.

"My name is Annika. I've come with Sir Walter Beck to see if there is anything we can do to help your people."

"And how do you propose to do that?" the woman asked, an acid edge to her tone.

"That will depend upon your leader," Annika replied, forcing herself to remain calm and not let this woman bait her. Besides, she realised, poverty and misery was not likely to make anyone friendly or trusting.

"So, if Sabine has some ideas, you and this Sir Walter are capable of carrying them out?"

"I believe so," Annika replied. "If your leader is amenable, our next stop is Brightwall Village. Our basic goal, for now, is to see if we can ease your lot here. Brightwall can help."

The woman smiled for the first time. "My name is Inga," she said, and nodded. "They could indeed ease our lot. Brightwall Village has food and supplies that we have so little of here. It's possible that if they can be persuaded, we may yet be saved."

"All hope is not gone," Annika said with conviction. "I know I will do everything in my power to see to it that you and your children do not starve. So will Walter."

"But can you make the King care?" Inga asked.

"For the moment, the King is irrelevant. Let us first see what we can do about food and supplies."

Inga inclined her head. "You are right. Let us see. Sabine is a wise man, and I don't think he'll turn down an offer of help if it is genuine. I do not believe you would be here if you were not in earnest."

The two other women smiled at her. Annika returned their smile.

* * *

><p>"What can I do to convince you?" Annika asked the tiny old man on the throne of the largest caravan in the camp. His bodyguard, Balder, was the largest man Annika had ever seen, and the sight of him had unnerved her, until she saw him stoop down and begin to play with Poopsie. She relaxed. The man looked fierce, and likely was when he had to be, but he also had a playful and gentle heart.<p>

The wizened old man, Sabine, was smaller than Annika had expected. He had a full head of hair, however, and a long and decorative moustache. This indicated pride, which Annika respected. He held a staff and when he stood and sauntered down to her she almost giggled when she saw that his shoes were curved up at the toes in a elfin manner. His entire outfit was colourful and bright, but the shoes...

Thankfully she was able to maintain a serious demeanour. Barely.

"So, you come here seeking our aid to overthrow your own brother?" Sabine asked harshly, his face so close to hers that she could smell tobacco on his breath.

She refused to flinch. "I have."

"And you expect me to believe that you can not only aid us in our time of need, but that you are a true Hero, such as the Legends speak of?"

"No," she said, "I expect you to have me prove those things to you."

The old man chuckled. "You expect correctly, young lady. First, I want you to prove that you are a Hero. Fetch me a relic from the Reliquary beneath the Brightwall Academy. Only a Hero could withstand the trials that will doubtless lay in wait within. Secondly, persuade Brightwall Village to share some of their food and other supplies with us. Thirdly, eliminate the mercenaries that plague and kill us. Their leader, Saker, has been relentless and cruel. We've lost many of our number to him already."

"Is that all?" Annika asked, already doubting whether she could accomplish so much.

"That's all. Once those things are done, return to me and we'll bargain. Now, off with you!"

He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and Annika strode to Walter, who stood a distance away.

"Did you hear all that?" she asked him.

"I did," Walter said, his mouth quirking into a smile. "I take it that you are already doubting yourself, Princess?"

"He asks for so much!" she whispered nervously. "How can I do all of those things?"

"I'll be with you. Of course you'll have much to do on your own, but I won't be idle. I'll work on the old Librarian in Brightwall. He's the most respected citizen and we are old friends. Your mother founded the Academy, and no doubt Samuel will be able to get you in to the Reliquary. Simply show him the Guild Seal and he'll allow you entrance."

Walter and Annika began to walk toward the edge of the camp. "Princess, this is your first trial. I have every confidence in you that you will succeed. If I didn't, we wouldn't be here."

"If I fail, we'll end up dead," she said.

Walter stopped and put his hands on her shoulders. "I know that all of this seems quite overwhelming, but I am confident in you. You are ready. You are as ready as your mother was, and she never felt that she was ready, either. Yet as each trial came she prevailed. You will do the same."

Annika shivered again. "When...when do I have to see the librarian?"

Walter smiled gently. "You may travel to your Lodge, if that is what you are thinking. Why don't you meet me in Brightwall tomorrow? I'll be at the tavern."

"Thank you, Walter."

"No thanks are necessary. Now, go and rest up. You have a big day tomorrow, Princess."

* * *

><p>The place called Hunter's Lodge was all Annika could have hoped for. It was a large and well-furnished house. It was completely isolated and if Annika hadn't been able to use the Map Table in the Sanctuary to travel there she doubted she ever could have located it.<p>

She wandered the spacious downstairs and was amazed at what she saw. Some of the furnishings, such as the dining room table and some of the cupboards and bookshelves were old and likely placed there by her parents. But other items were obviously from Logan.

Annika saw, as she perused the book shelves that all her favourite books were there. Logan had reembered all of them! She had to stifle a giggle when she saw, below her favourites, other books that he plainly intended for her to study.

There were more books on magic and Heros, as well as books that detailed the making and use of various weaponry. There were treatises on diplomacy, as well as philosophy. She frowned at the very thick tome of Geography. She hated that subject and Logan knew it! Still, he must believe it to be important for her to know.

She scanned more shelves and saw books on warfare, various forms of government, and histories of Albion. She also saw a book on how to educate children and one on how to manage a business. She was taken aback to also see a book on the market values of gems and jewelry, and then realised that she had such items to pawn. The shovel he had provided her with reminded her that her mother had found many items to pawn all over Albion and her dog had sniffed them out.

So, that was the reason for the shovel! Well, as tedious as that sort of endeavor sounded, Annika knew she would not pass up the opportunity to make a single copper.

Then one book caught her eye. It was thick, but that was all right with her, for it was a subject she was most interested in. It was titled "Lovemaking: The Art of Physical Pleasuring Between a Man and a Woman.

She blushed furiously, but was delighted at the book. She wondered if Logan had used any of its contents to...

"Stop it!" she said out loud. Poopsie whined and she smiled and patted his head. "It's all right, boy, Mama just got jealous again." She sighed. "It seems that where our Logan is concerned, your Mama gets extremely jealous."

She would put that jealousy aside as best she could, however, and study the book most diligently. The next time she was with Logan, she would make sure to demonstrate how good a student she was!

Annika then wandered to the sitting area with the book. She set it upon a table next to a comfortable couch and then glanced up at the paintings that were on the wall. She was taken aback once more.

There was her favourite portrait of herself and Logan that he had commissioned just last year! She knew that Logan valued it highly, as it had the place of honour in his chambers above the fireplace, and it must have pained him to part with it.

Beside it was a portrait of their parents, and on the floor resting against the wall, was a portrait of him. It was one of the very few he had allowed to be painted as it was after his return from that fateful journey that had left him scarred. But ever since Annika had made him comfortable with his scars and had made a habit of caressing and kissing them, he obviously no longer minded if she saw it.

But why was it on the floor?

"Oh," she whispered, "he wants to give me the choice of whether or not I wish to gaze upon it whenever I am here." She smiled then and scratched Poopsie behind his ears.

"Gaze upon it I will, my loyal friend, for it will be hung beside my bed!"

Annika picked up the book with the naked couple on the cover in one hand, and hefted the portait in the other. She headed upstairs.

A few minutes later she was downstairs again and rummaging for a glass and a bottle of wine. Logan may not be with her physically, but tonight she would enjoy his image on canvas immensely. She did have two healthy hands, after all.


	12. Chapter 12

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 12**

Brightwall was a surprise for Annika. She had previously seen some of Bowerstone, but only when Logan had made certain that she was disguised to blend in with the citizenry and accompanied by several guards also in disguise. So, from those experiences, she knew a little about towns and their populace. But Brightwall was more rural than Bowerstone, and also more friendly. She liked that. She was also impressed at the range of business opportunities in the small hamlet.

There was not only an expert blacksmith, but a pawnbroker, furniture store, clothing store, and everything one needed for food, drink, and even gifts. She hadn't expected so much to be available. There was even a fashion shop that carried face-painting kits and wigs. But the potions stand was her favourite. She had a feeling that she would be needing all the healing potions she could buy.

She learned quickly how to converse with people, having discovered that most did not speak of philosophy, literature, or anything remotely intellectual. At least not often. The few who did were either travellers or shopkeepers who decided that she was fair game for becoming either their wife or mistress. The people in general tended to complain about the prices in the shops, their spouses, children, and, of late, the King.

The Brightwall citizens were more concerned with the immediate economic problems their small town faced. She didn't hear them complain outright about the King, but more about the fact that not enough income was coming in to the town due to the mercenaries and outlaws that plagued the areas around the city.

So, if she could eliminate the bandit problem, that would not only benefit the Dwellers, but Brightwall as well. That would be a phenomenal start to winning their first Allies.

But she was only a minor Hero at the moment. Yes, she was progressing nicely in her weapons practice and fighting techniques, but was she ready for numerous opponents? After all, mercenaries and bandits did not work alone, but in groups. She had no experience with multiple enemies outside of Logan's training rooms in the Castle.

And this would be for real. These enemies would truly try to kill her. There would be no mercy and no quarter given. It would be kill or be killed, plainly and simply. She could not afford to make any mistakes. Second chances would be rare, if available at all.

However, she did have some potions of healing in her Bag of Holding, as well as two potions that would slow time and two that would temporarily summon creatures to aid her, or at least she thought that was what it did. She hadn't been willing to waste to gold to test it.

Also, Annika pondered, was she supposed to drink those? The healing potions were to be consumed, of course. But the time and creature potions? Or was she supposed to scatter them onto the ground? Was she then supposed to make a wish, or use her power of Will?

She shifted in her seat in the pub and began to laugh. She had in her possession some very valuable items and she didn't even know how to use them! She sipped her ale and began to choke on it, only causing her to laugh harder.

Some Hero she was! She was partially trained in combat, had some very special weapons, a house of her own to retreat to, and even gold. But what was she supposed to actually do with it all?

Just as a barmaid was about to begin patting her on the back Annika's coughing stopped and she waved the woman away with a smile.

She had begun planning last night, or so she had thought. She found some blank books in Hunter's Lodge that Logan had provided her and she began to write down her immediate goals. They read something like this:

Go to the Reliquary beneath the Brightwall Academy and obtain an unknown object.

Begin to buy small businesses and purchase houses to rent out as soon as possible.

Have Jasper manage the money and look up the value of the gems and jewellery.

Have Jasper do the actual pawning instead of her. She had better things to do.

Have Walter find out where the bandits and mercenaries strike the most and map the locations.

Begin to make friends among the locals and gain their trust.

Not die, and preferably not become terribly scarred or disfigured.

So, she had her first goals clearly in mind and some were straight-forward, but others weren't so clear. How was she to gain friends? Buy drinks for people? Talk to them? Was she supposed to buy a house of her own in this place and host parties?

It was painfully apparent to Annika that as a Princess who had been sheltered all her life she really did not know what she was doing. Just toss a royal into an average village and watch her flounder seemed to be the game. She took another swig of ale and wondered if the Seer was having a good laugh at her expense.

"Miss? Can you hear me?"

It was Jasper, but where was he? Annika's head swivelled round and noticed that nobody else heard her butler's voice.

"I'm speaking to you through the Guild Seal. Only you can hear me. I can see that you are troubled and wonder what to do first. I suggest that you go to the Librarian now. Afterwards, I'll show you how to begin to make friends among the locals."

Annika downed the rest of her ale. "You'd better be right," she grumbled.

"I'm sure I am, Your Majesty," he replied, startling her. He heard that?

She giggled. "Very well, Jasper. I'll go to the Academy now."

Well, that was one part of the plan under way.

* * *

><p>On the way to the Academy Poopsie began to bark and rush to various spots, look back eagerly at her, and circle a spot on the ground.<p>

"What?" she asked him, wondering why he was barking. Usually if he had to respond to Nature's Call she just let him go and the gardeners would...

Oh. That wasn't it at all, was it? She began to giggle again. Poopsie was doing what her mother's dog had done for her and what Logan had trained him to do. He had sniffed out an object in the ground.

She reached in her Bag and mentally wished to find the shovel. It was in her hand in an instant and she went to the spot and began to dig. Well, she tried to. The dirt was packed tightly and digging was something she had never done before!

Annika couldn't stop herself from giggling anew. She was a Hero and she didn't even know how to use a shovel!

"All right, Annika, think! Now, just put the tip on the ground and push down on the top with your foot..."

That worked better. She pried some soil up and tossed it aside. Nothing. She tried again. A little more dirt, but still nothing.

Poopsie let out a whimpering sigh of impatience and began to dig beside her.

He was the one to find the ruby. She reached into the Bag and brought out an apple for him.

"Thank you, boy! I love you and thank you for your patience with this silly Princess!"

He gobbled the apple down quickly and rubbed up against her in sympathy and understanding. Then he looked up and she did, too, meeting the glare of a rather irritated citizen.

Annika hastily shoved the dirty gem into the Bag, murmured an apology to the home-owner whose yard she had just defaced, and hurried on to the Academy.

She didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed that Poopsie found three more dig spots before they even reached the massive door of the Academy Brightwall was famous for. She had been in a rush to get this task for Sabine over with and the digging delayed her. She decided to be pleased, however, as they had found an amethyst, an old necklace, and a silver goblet. Hopefully these items, once she, or rather, Jasper, cleaned them, would fetch a decent price at the Pawnbroker's. Besides, the last item she had dug up all by herself, no help from her companion needed!

Yes, that was indeed something worthy of noting in her journal. She had learned how to use a shovel! Of course, she would not add that she would have Jasper clean the items. After all, when Logan read her journal someday, as he would likely desire to, she didn't want him to think her a lazy Hero. On the other hand, were he present now, he would probably insist that she not clean the items herself as she had better things to do with her time.

Very well. Honesty would be the best policy, she decided. She would write the truth in her journal, even when it was lazy or embarrassing.

The old librarian, Samuel, was a kindly old man. At first he hadn't even looked up from his papers when she had entered. He merely stated matter-of-factly that the Academy had been officially closed by order of the Crown and that she had best leave before the King's guards believed she was gaining any genuine knowledge.

Annika had strode up to his desk and plunked the Guild Seal down in front of him. Startled, Samuel looked up into her face.

"By the gods of documentation, are you the..."

"The Princess, yes."

"I never thought I'd see the Guild Seal again!" he breathed in awe. "The last time I saw your mother, she told me that someday someone bearing the Seal would return, but I never imagined it would be during my lifetime!"

"So, now you've seen it," Annika said with a smile, taking it into her hands. "I'm Princess Annika, and I need to access the lower levels of the Academy. I was told that there is a relic there that will prove that I am a Hero."

"And once you do, you will..."

Annika sighed. "I think you know about the Prophecy, Samuel. Walter told me you know. But to be more specific, I need to prove that I am a Hero. Once I do that, I need to gain followers to the cause of..." She swallowed hard, still uncomfortable with the very thought of the Cause. "Of...revolution," she concluded at last.

Samuel smiled and gestured for her to follow him. "I see. Well, I haven't seen Sir Walter in years, but unless I'm grievously mistaken, I'll find him at the tavern. There is a door that leads to the lower levels, but it has been locked for decades. Even our greatest scholars have been unable to discover what mechanism will open it." His tone assumed the rehearsed speech a tour guide would have. "Despite years of study and endless debate, nobody has been able to find the 'key' the door requires. There have been endless debates on whether a key is even necessary. However, even Will users, which are very rare these days, have come and been unable to unlock it. All the available tomes here on the upper level have been studied by the most motivated and learned scholars, and all to no avail."

He lead them through a hallway and made a turn into an extremely large room filled to the brim with bookshelves that were overflowing with tomes. Paintings also lined the walls and many lay against the base of the shelves. At the opposite end of the room was a large intimidating door. He stopped before the door and gestured to its centre. There was a round hole and it was obvious that...

"I'm sure the Seal is the mechanism that will unlock this door," Samuel said, and for the first time his voice began to tremble with excitement. "Imagine! If you are indeed a Hero like your mother, perhaps we can someday see this place reopened and enlightenment returned to Albion! I wonder what secrets lie below!"

"I'll bet not only the secrets of knowledge," Annika said, unable to help but admire the wheels and gears on the door with the obvious indentation that would accept the Seal, but at the same time she knew that likely enemies awaited her below.

According to her mother's stories and the stories in the books Logan had her read, there were always undead lurking about ready to eagerly disembowel the living. She shuddered. She had read of her mother battling giant beetles, swarms of Hobbes, Hollowmen, and even Shadows.

Could she face what may lurk behind this door?

"I'm sure you will have no problem finding the relic you seek," Samuel said. "You look every bit a Hero, if I may say so. You exude an air of...well...Hero-ness."

Annika couldn't help but laugh at the learned man's choice of words. Laughing helped her courage to rise and so she pressed the Seal into the indentation on the door.

Slowly the gears turned and the door swung open. Her eyes widened and Samuel shifted from foot to foot in excitement. A very long set of descending stairs was revealed.

"Would you care to come along?" Annika asked, hoping the man would accept. Even with Poopsie at her side her courage began to waver. Perhaps the old man would stave off the presence of evil. After all, her mother had written that the Hero Hammer had deduced that if a warrior had not ventured into the sacred temple for the water needed for the Golden Oak the evil creatures would never have appeared to begin with.

"Oh, goodness, no!" Samuel exclaimed, stepping back. "I wouldn't dream of it! Only a Hero can obtain the relic you seek. I have no place down there."

"Until the way is certain to be safe?" Annika replied with sarcasm, and instantly regretted her words.

"Forgive me," the old man said, "but...I'm afraid so. I know this is your first...ah...quest. But you must go alone, Your Highness." He touched Annika's arm and she looked into his face. She saw concern there, but also confidence. True confidence.

"I have no doubt you will succeed. You are your mother's daughter and a Hero. If you were not ready, you would not be in possession of the Seal."

"Well, that's probably true," Annika conceded with a small smile. "I just hope that I'm as ready as everyone seems to believe I am. I don't feel very ready or heroic at the moment."

He smiled gently. "I'm sure no Hero ever does; at least not at the beginning. But this will be your first major victory, Your Highness. I send my best wishes with you, but I truly doubt you will need them. Now, I'll leave you to it. Good luck, Princess. May you find what you seek."

"May I not find too many things to fight!" she whispered to herself as Samuel turned and walked away.

She drew the sword out of the Bag and she and Poopsie began to descend the stairs. It was not comforting in the least that the enormous door slid shut of its own accord behind them.

* * *

><p>The would-be Hero sat on the stone steps nearly half-way down to the first level of books. There were three aisles that were long but generously wide. The bookshelves were so full that some were collapsing with the weight of the old tomes crammed into them. Other shelves were rotting away and some had fallen over. Still others were broken and their contents scattered about the floor.<p>

But the very fact that she could see all this from her vantage point surprised the young woman. Why was this place illuminated? She had been preparing to remove her torch from her Bag and light it when she suddenly realised that she did not need it. Light was plentiful.

She had looked around and noticed that there were literally hundreds, if not thousands, of lit candles everywhere. Annika had to note this in her journal. Who kept these candles lit? Who lit them in the first place? Were there really such things as enchanted candles, and if not, did Hollowmen light them?

That seemed absurd. They must be enchanted candles. Yet she had read of no such things in any of the books Logan had assigned her to read. Well, of course this was a must for her journal. She also decided that she would sketch the places she visited as much as possible. She would also take detailed notes and make the most accurate sketches she could of any enemies she would find herself pitted against.

Poopsie nudged her thigh and whined.

"No, I'm not stalling!" she said, "this is important! I am going to be the best self-documented Hero Albion has ever known! Even mother never kept notes like mine!"

But Poopsie was right. She had finished her preliminary notations several minutes ago and was now just sitting on the stairs.

He whined again and leapt up and raced to the bottom.

"Careful!" she scolded.

Annika sighed, put away her journal and followed her dog. He began running to this shelf and that, sniffing everything everywhere. Annika scanned titles and found that many were not even in a language that she could read.

That was yet one more surprise. Just how old were these books, anyway? Suddenly she heard Poopsie bark and looked over to see him circling a pile of dirt. Wonder of wonders...another dig spot.

She unearthed a medium-sized piece of jet. Not terribly valuable, but still, it would add to her funds.

Moving on, she and her dog soon discovered that the bowels of the Academy were enormous. The hallways and ledges and drops from one level to yet another were almost unbelievable in their size and scope.

They moved into yet another large room between rooms filled with books. She had no idea why these rooms were not filled with books. Why have empty rooms, then a walkway to other rooms that were filled? It made no sense to her. But then, none of this was making much sense to her. A huge library filled with books that likely very few people in the world could ever read, lit candles absolutely everywhere, and a relic that was secured away somewhere. Would she even know it if she found it?

Suddenly she heard frantic barking and saw blue globes circling all around her. Quickly she seized her sword. She knew what this meant, thanks to her brother's tutelage. These were orbs that would materialize into Hollowmen.

Annika backed away as quickly as she could to place space between her and her inevitable attackers. Within seconds desiccated corpses formed from the orbs and manifested themselves into physical bodies in various stages of decomposition. Most were clothed, all had blue glowing eyes, and all were armed. However, some had melee weapons, and others had rifles.

A quick count totalled her first battle to be against eleven of these creatures. Steeling herself, the Princess charged at the smallest grouping and swung her sword as Walter had taught her. She swung, bent at the knees to avoid the hatchet-like weapons they sliced at her, and two went scattered into flying bones at once.

Her own strength and focus was key now. She had to pay close attention. Others moved in on her quickly. These dead things moved faster than she had anticipated, so she dodged back and rolled, glad now that she had been practising so diligently.

She gained space once more. She leapt to her feet as four of the things charged her. She held her ground and concentrated on placing as much strength into her arms as possible. As soon as they reached her she swung her sword as hard as she could and cleaved three. The fourth struck her on her back and she stumbled.

Poopsie leapt to her assistance and attacked. He gave Annika just enough time to refocus and strike again. This time the corpse fairly exploded into dry bones, leather, and dust.

She yelled to her dog to fall back as the rest of the melee group advanced on her. She noticed the three gunmen holding their positions and allowed her peripheral vision to warn her of their incoming rifle shots. But for now they were reloading.

To Annika, these moments felt surreal. Time seemed to slow just enough for her to focus her next quick sword strikes on the incoming zombies and cleaved them in half with little effort.

Now she rolled and dodged three bullets. She kept rolling and somersaulted her body forward to the last remaining Hollowmen with the rifles. The things were dead and quick, but they were incredibly stupid. They stood close to each other and it was an easy matter to regain her footing and slice them into pieces.

They were all dead. Or...deader. Annika stood in the midst of the debris of their remains and rusted weapons and panted, not in exertion, but excitement.

This had been her first true battle and she had been victorious! Adrenaline surged through her veins and she had seldom felt so alive. Perhaps she had _never_ felt so alive! Well, she had felt this alive in Logan's bed, but that was different. Or perhaps it wasn't so different. She had been victorious over him as well, hadn't she?

Annika smiled what she knew was a smug smile and sat down, pulling out her journal. Yes, she would note that thought just before she sketched. First she had 'triumphed' over her beloved Logan, and today against Hollowmen.

Perhaps this Hero business wouldn't be so bad after all.


	13. Chapter 13

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

_**Note – this chapter is an experiment. Well, this entire story is an experiment for me, acutally! I'm going to attempt to shift the POV's once in a while between Princess Annika and Logan. If that doesn't seem to work, or if it feels odd to anyone, let me know. I can always shift back to Annika's POV exclusively. **_

**Come Closer**

**Chapter 13**

It was moments like this that he dreaded almost more than any others, and Avo knew he dreaded many, many moments.

Logan stared in frustration and anxiety at the Map Table. Of course, not being a Hero, he could not use it to travel, still, it provided him with important information. As King, he was always able to see when something of import was happening somewhere. He may not be able to see precisely what the nature event was, but he would see signs – indistinct blurs of people moving about, discolourations in an area that signified discontent or danger, black or grey areas for despair and hardship, even red or black for death. But he saw no sign or indication of his Annika anywhere, and that frightened him beyond reason. He did not know what form she would take on the Map, but he knew in his heart that he _would _be able to see her.

When he had actively searched for his beloved Annika countless times every day after her disappearance from the Castle, he had seen nothing. Logan had never felt such fear in his life. His heart clenched and his gut twisted every time he searched for and failed to find her. She had simply...vanished.

And then he remembered their mother's stories. She had mentioned a hidden 'Sanctuary' only a few times, but Logan now recalled what she had said. It was a place where she and her butler could go for complete privacy from everyone; supposedly even from the Seer of the Spire. It was her own personal place and anything there with her was safe from the prying eyes or sticky fingers of everyone else.

So, Annika, Walter, and Jasper were likely in the Sanctuary. And he also recalled that it held an armoury and a place where items could be sent to its owner. But how could items be sent? Logan paced and tried to remember. But nothing came to mind. Perhaps Amalia Sparrow had never spoken more about that. But perhaps, just perhaps, she had written about it somewhere. He would search for more of her writings.

He had, before his soul-love's departure, prepared gifts and useful items for Annika, but she had vanished before he could give them to her. He hadn't realised that she would leave...no...be _taken _from him so quickly and without warning. She had been ripped away from him and the excruciating agony had nearly rent him asunder. He vaguely recalled screaming in anguish and utter loss, terrifying everyone who heard him. He didn't recall what he had said to placate them, if anything, but he had managed to dismiss them and wallow in his self-pity and pain alone for awhile.

Logan slammed his fist down on the table in rage and pain once more as he recalled that horrible moment. She had been taken! He hadn't even been given a chance to say good-bye to her! Damn Walter to the hells and back! He knew that it was the old man who had taken her and spirited her away during the night.

The King then drew in a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Walter had always been a good and loyal man to his family. He would not have taken Annika if he had not truly believed that it was time. Still, heartache and agony wracked his heart and body when he thought of it. Hells, he was in agony every day, every moment, that he and Annika were apart. His heart was empty, yet managed to hold so much pain that he was tormented every moment, waking and sleeping. His body was a pathetic shell that only was held together by strength of resolve and constant physical effort. He _had _to hold himself together until her return. If he did not, they would never have a chance at a life together.

He could not risk that. He simply could not and would not. Whether, in the End, she would love him or loathe him, he needed to be intact for her just to have a chance.

It was terrifying that his love for her had also evolved into a need and dependence so great that her mere absense from him felt as if it were slowly draining the life from him. He wondered if she felt the same?

A part of him hoped so. Yes, it was selfish, but he desired to be as missed by her as she was by him. On the other hand, she had both of their destinies to fulfill, and she would be unable to do so if she was only a shell of herself.

His Annika was strong. She was also intelligent, intuitive, and brave. Likely she would see the gold and gems he would find a way to get to her and put the money to good use at once. She would find the home he had refurbished for her and have a personal place of her own to rest and continue to educate herself. And he had already discovered a way that they could be together, alone in it, three times for three hours each time. He silently thanked his good fortune that he had found some of Amalia Sparrow's writings and magical tokens.

As desperately as he wanted and needed to be with Annika, he knew that they could not squander the three times. Who knew how long this Path would take until its completion? He wanted to be there for her when it was most important and beneficial.

"For her," he muttered, "not for me." But even as he uttered the words, he knew they were a lie. He wanted to be with her for himself as well. He was a selfish and possessive man.

Then his mouth quirked into a wry, but pleased, smile when he recalled that when it came to him, Annika was equally as selfish. Her demands of him and her jealousy fed his hungry soul and aching heart enough to keep him functioning while she was away from him. It would sustain him for as long as necessity dictated.

Yet he also hoped, again selfishly, that perhaps just once, they could be together as just Logan and Annika when she would decide to Call him.

He straightened. He would find a way to send his gifts to her. He strode to his secretary's office and informed Willoughby that he would be occupied for the next several hours and to reschedule any appointments.

Yes, he would return to his mother's writings. There had to be something there about the sending of items to the Sanctuary.

* * *

><p>Who knew it would be so damned simple? Logan placed each package on the Map Table and intoned the words that he had finally found in the former Queen's journal.<p>

"This item will find its way to the Sanctuary of the Hero who is in possession of the Guild Seal."

The package vanished.

Logan stumbled backward in surprise. It had worked! Well, of course he knew it would. Still, seeing that it was such a simple incantation and that the package he had placed on the table disappeared before his very eyes was still rather unnerving.

He placed another on the table and recited the same line. The parcel vanished. He did the same for the rest until they were all gone.

He leaned over the table and stared at the shape of the catacombs on the castle grounds. That had to be where his love was. Somewhere in that place she was in the Sanctuary, and he hoped she would not only appreciate, but make good use of his gifts.

The last parcel, however, was by far the most personal. He had given of his own body. For a moment he wondered if that was such a good idea, or if Annika would be repulsed. A feeling of calm washed over him in response to his silent question and he knew now that she would be pleased. She would not only be pleased, but she would be touched and she would understand.

She was _his_ Annika and he _her_ Logan. Nobody understood either of them as utterly and completely as the other.

And then it happened. How much later was it? He did not know, as time had eluded him. Of course that insufferable bore, Hobkins, would later tell him precisely what day it was down to the very second. Irritating toad! But he was a useful toad, he had to admit.

But it had happened! Logan's heart beat frantically with joy when he finally saw a bright golden and purple human-shaped glow on the Map. It was Annika, he knew it! Only she would appear golden for his highest love for her and purple for their shared love and loyalty.

She was in the Mistpeak Dweller Camp.

A gods-forsaken place, but still, she was now in his Sight. And she was safe.

For the first night in what he later found out was several weeks, the King of Albion slept peacefully.

* * *

><p>Sorry if this chapter seems short! But I write them and end them where it feels proper to do so. I'm not one to beg for reviews, but in this one instance I would like to know if switching of the POV's works or if I should return to Annika's alone. If nobody responds, that's quite all right! I adore all of you who read this anyway!<p>

But in the event I get no responses or constructive opinions, I'll proceed as it feels right for me to do so – and that will be to periodically allow both Annika and Logan to have their moments in the sun, so to speak. :)

3 Mafsarhet


	14. Chapter 14

Come Closer #14

All of this trouble for the item that was rightfully her mother's? Annika was extremely irritated. She had traversed endless rooms and walkways, not to mention having to battle Hollowmen every few minutes, and the "relic" turned out to be her mother's music box?

Annika jotted this down in her journal and was not in the least embarrassed to mention that she was angry that she had destroyed dozens of Hollowmen and wandered about with no clear direction in this huge cavernous place just to retrieve an item that probably should have been stored in the Castle to begin with!

Of course it hadn't helped matters any that during her time in the bowels of the Academy she had attempted to use the rifle that Logan had given her to see if she could rest her weary sword arm. It seemed as if shooting a target not too far off should have been a simple matter.

It wasn't. A single Hollowman was no further than fifty feet when she first began firing. And missing. And firing again. And missing again. Finally the creature slapped the weapon from her hands and she was forced to roll to one side and grasp her sword.

When it was destroyed she put the rifle away. She would have to speak to Walter about this embarrassing turn of events. Why hadn't he taught her a single thing about shooting? She had had to fumble to figure out how to turn off the safety feature, and then she hadn't expected the recoil of the weapon that now undoubtedly would leave a large ugly bruise on her shoulder. And how, when the stupid corpse was so close, did she miss every shot?

Unless shooting was simply not something she was able to do.

"Nonsense!" she said out loud, sitting on the top stair of the door leading to the Academy Proper. "It's Walter's fault. He only taught me how to use a sword! Logan did all he could with sword training also, and hand to hand combat."

Poopsie whined in agreement.

She was aware that she was possibly making excuses for Logan, but still, if she was honest, she reasoned, Walter was her mentor. Logan had done so much else for her. How could she expect him to train her in everything? Besides that, she was supposed to be Logan's nemesis on her odyssey as Hero. It was nothing less than incredibly generous of him to have done all he did for her, not to mention wondrously loving. He had prepared her physically, mentally, philosophically, and emotionally as much as he was able. And he loved her unconditionally every moment. Everything he did, even knowing what he knew, was borne of his fathomless love for her.

She thought of his gifts. The weapons and the clothing. The gold that surely had cost the treasury dearly! And oh, the gifts from his own body! Annika's eyes watered in loving remembrance. This man would not hesitate to give his own life for her. He would, she had no doubt, slit his own throat before her, naked and on his knees, if she asked him to.

Before she could give in to the sobs that the pain of being apart from him caused her, she forced her mind to other matters. Logan would not want her to collapse. Not now. Perhaps at her private home, but never where an enemy could be near and take advantage of her vulnerability.

Now, think of shooting as a necessary addition to her skills, she told herself.

Perhaps Walter had a teacher in mind and they simply hadn't encountered him or her yet. Or, Walter hadn't thought of ranged weapons at all because he himself never used them.

That hadn't occurred to her before. Now that she reflected on it, she had never seen Walter ever carry a gun of any sort; only his favourite sword. Well, she would think more on all this later. She had Sabine's precious "relic" as proof of her Hero status. It was time to leave this wretched place.

"All right, boy, let's tell Samuel that we're all done here and head home to the Lodge. We deserve a rest after the day we've had."

The Doberman nuzzled her cheek and licked her gratefully. Annika laughed.

"I'm glad you agree! Let's go! I've had enough for one day."

* * *

><p>As it turned out, she and her furry friend did not return to the Lodge. Annika pawned the 'treasures' she had collected on her way to the Relic and was stunned to see that she had enough money from those gems and odd coins alone to buy a house! She found one that was called "Bumbler's Gruff" and told Jasper to purchase it at once.<p>

Without waiting, as there were no current tenants, Annika and Poopsie went inside. What she found surprised her. Not only was the house spacious, but there was an entire room on the lower level that was obviously once a schoolhouse. There were dusty children's school desks and old bookshelves with good quality books that hadn't seen use for years.

A quick count revealed twenty desks and more than enough text books. So, she mused, there was once a school here. Why was it closed? Was it because Logan had closed the Academy? But that didn't make sense. She tried to reason this through. And then she had a theory.

The Academy was plainly for adults. The books were far too sophisticated for children. The people of Brightwall complained of the poor economy. And, if Annika remembered correctly, the previous owner of this house was now a stall vendor named Donna. Donna was elderly and likely had to retire from teaching; that or else she had not made enough coin as a teacher to make a comfortable living for herself. As the stall vendor who now sold beer and spirits, she made a far better living, and now resided comfortably in a nicer home near the Academy.

So, to make a favourable impression in Brightwall, if she could reopen the school and make the fees for the pupils affordable, she would be well on her way to winning over the support of this village and its most respected citizen, Samuel.

But who could she find to teach? Donna likely would not care to take up her old profession again.

"Miss?" Jasper's voice spoke through the Guild Seal. "Can I help you? I hear you murmuring to yourself. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Jasper!" she cried out happily, for once glad to have her thoughts interrupted, "indeed you can! This house once was a school for the children here. I want to refurbish this place and find someone to teach. And then I want to arrange affordable fees for the parents of the children who could learn here. Do you have any ideas?"

Jasper, to her surprise, didn't even hesitate. "Indeed I do, Your Highness. The person who readily comes to mind is Saul at the Academy. He's spent years cataloging and studying. Next to Samuel, he is the most educated citizen in Brightwall. If I'm correct, Mrs. Donna Kelley will not be inclined to return to her former occupation as school mistress."

"No, she won't," Annika said. "She's making good coin as a stall vendor and has a much better house. I hadn't thought of Saul! Besides, he would only have to teach a few hours a day. He needn't leave all his studying at the Academy behind! But I have to have a plan for reasonable student fees and pay for Saul. And..."

"And also make some money from the endeavour?"

"Yes, Jasper. I don't need to make much, but I do want to make something. Do you think that is possible?"

"I'll visit the dwelling soon and make my assessment, Miss. I think it can be done."

Annika sighed with relief. "Thank you, Jasper! You are truly indispensable!"

She could swear she felt the old man swell with pride.

"Well," he said, clearly pleased, "I do my best to please."

"Thank you! I'm going to examine the upper level now. I'll talk to you later, Jasper!"

The old butler took the hint and ceased communication. What Annika found upstairs was quite a surprise. The entirety of the two rooms were filled with paintings. They weren't the paintings she was accustomed to seeing, as many people had the same portraits of royals or the same landscapes of Old Albion. No, these were beautiful newer works of how Brightwall looked now. She recognized the Academy, the woods nearby, even the tavern. And...yes! There was Samuel as a younger man!

Donna Kelley was quite the surprise! She was not only an educated woman, but a talented painter of both landscapes and people.

Annika suddenly had an idea.

* * *

><p>"Miss?" Jasper said as Annika appeared in the Sanctuary. "Do you remember how you asked me if there was something in the 'Book of Heroes' about sending gifts via the shelves, besides receiving them?"<p>

Annika sucked in her breath. "Yes?"

Jasper smiled at her enthusiasm. "Well, I've found a way. All you need to do is place the item on any shelf and recite the words, 'From this Sanctuary I send this item to the one for which it is intended.' And, according to the book, it will appear in the recipient's private chambers."

"Absolutely perfect!" Annika breathed. "Jasper, I have commissioned a very special portrait for my brother. It is for his eyes only, and what you discovered is perfect!" She rushed to her beloved butler and threw her arms about his neck and pressed a kiss to his wrinkled cheek. "You are wonderful!"

"Well," Jasper said, blushing as he smiled, "I'm pleased that you are so happy! I haven't seen you smile for days."

She laughed. "You're right. I've been very busy and very tense. This is good news for me, Jasper. I don't feel cut off from home altogether now."

"I have more good news for you, Miss," Jasper said, "and I'm sure it will please you equally as well!"

"Do tell!" the Princess cried out, clapping her hands. She was still delighted by her 'special' commission and that she had the means to send it to Logan! What more could Jasper say to cheer her even further?

"I have used some of the spare coin, and not much was needed, to prepare the school room for proper use. I also went to the Academy and submitted our proposal that he become the school master. He was only too delighted to accept. He only wants a modest salary, as he resides in the Academy and does not need to pay for lodgings. The both of us then asked Samuel to approach the citizens about the idea and held a meeting at the Academy Garden."

He stopped speaking and flashed Annika a smug smile.

"Well?" she pressed eagerly, playing his game.

"And...we've come to an agreement on student fees that every parent in Brightwall can afford! And since Saul's salary is so modest and you own the building, you will begin to see profits within four months!"

"Four months?" Annika gasped. "That's...amazing! How is that possible?"

"The home and its furnishings are in better condition than you had at first estimated, Your Majesty. The costs of improving the dwelling were minimal and the texts are all up to date. Well, all save the histories, but Saul informed me that he will lecture from a favourite book of his from the Academy and the children can take notes."

"So the school can open soon?"

"As soon as you like, Miss."

Annika was so delighted that she squealed like a young girl. She hugged the old butler again, and this time he not only smiled and returned her hug, but blushed in pride and, of course, affection for his young charge.

* * *

><p>Finally, all his damnable appointments for the day were finished. Logan was in a foul mood as he went to the Map Table. Weeks had passed and he had been able to see Annika at the Dweller Camp and then at Brightwall. He was relieved that she was safe, but was frustrated that she was staying there for so long.<p>

He sighed. Undoubtedly she was investing the coin in profitable ventures and gaining support from the village. He also noticed that she made no move to reopen the Academy. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Of course she would understand why. He hadn't enjoyed closing the place their mother had founded, but to keep order in Albion, the less inflammatory literature in the hands of the populace, at least for now, the better.

Still, he had fears that Annika would hear and be surrounded by the malcontent that he could see in the clouded areas of Albion. Would she one day be influenced by the talk, opinions, and ignorance of what the People did not, and could not, know? Would she, one day, despite her best intentions, begin to perceive him as the rest of Albion did? As a tyrant with no true care, thought, or reason for his actions?

Then her purple-gold glow disappeared from the Map and he saw her flash to the Lodge. Because he had promised her that she would be safe from all eyes including his, he did not allow the Map Table to show what room she was in or for how long. He could only know she was there if he saw the brief glow of her Instant Travel or the fact that she did not have her purple-gold signature anywhere else in Albion.

Logan allowed his exhausted body to slump over the table for a moment. At least his Annika was safe for another day. He never knew from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, if she would be in a battle or a situation that would...

No! For what had to be at least the thousandth time, he refused to even consider the possibility that anything dire would happen to her.

He suddenly straightened and headed to their...no, for now...his bed. His lonely bed. This was one night he didn't have to do any tedious paperwork. Hells, he paid that toady Willoughby plenty; he could handle it.

Logan nodded curtly to the guards outside his chambers and entered. Just as he closed the door behind him he saw that his bed was not empty. Of course he wished that what was atop it was his Annika, but this was the next best thing. It was obviously a gift from her! She must have learned how to send him gifts via the Sanctuary shelves. The large rectangular package in the centre of his bed was wrapped in purple and had over a dozen red roses and purple irises atop it.

Logan quickly shed his heavy chest plate and cape and rushed to the bed as eager as a boy. What had she sent him? By the gods, he didn't truly care! Anything from his precious Annika would be a balm to his constantly aching heart.

The King carefully took one rose and inhaled deeply. Was it his desperate imagination, or did it smell more of Annika than it did itself? He tore open his shirt and pressed the rose over his heart. Finding the largest thorn, Logan pierced the flesh over his now rapidly beating heart. Not satisfied until he knew the puncture would scar, he pushed and twisted the painful thorn until he sensed that he could move on to make another.

He took another rose and this time pierced a spot on his left forearm. Rose after rose, until all twelve were used, Logan did not lay the last aside until he had bleeding wounds all over his forearms and chest. He wanted, needed, and craved these small scars.

Was he truly sick in his mind? Perhaps. But somehow blood-letting for Annika even if she did not know of it soothed him. He felt as if he were offering his life's blood to her. He also hoped that this offer would be seen by the gods as the truest love and devotion and perhaps they would bestow some protection on her as she traveled the road of the Hero.

Logan forced aside his anticipation of the gift until his wounds stopped bleeding. The moment the last of the punctures began to close he tore the purple wrapping off the box and threw the lid across the room in his haste to behold the gift inside.

And the gift inside was well worth waiting for. Of course the moment his eyes fell on the nude form of his Annika they also ascertained the fact that the artist was female. Annika surely knew that if she had commissioned a male artist that he would send assassins after him at once to dispose of him posthaste.

Logan seized the frame, his hungry eyes devouring every detail of his beloved's body. Annika sat on the corner of a bed, her legs spread. She gazed at him coyly with her green eyes beckoning him closer. Her full breasts made his mouth begin to water when he saw how hard her nipples were. They were dusky rose-red and the peaks were prominent. In fact, they were so prominent that he remembered how they felt in his mouth when he swirled his tongue around them, and how Annika shrieked in pleasure when he tugged on them firmly with his teeth.

His Annika didn't mind that her nipples were constantly sore from his attentions; in fact, she insisted that he wasn't properly satisfying her if they weren't sore the following morning.

Her long red curls cascaded over her breasts, but revealed more than they concealed. And her hands...oh, her hands! She had decided to exquisitely torture him by coving her sex with them! Her eyes held the 'come hither' expression he so adored, but the placement of her hands emoted a sense of shyness. Or...teasing? Regardless, Logan felt his knees go weak and was glad he could immediately seat himself on his bed.

He stared unabashedly at the portrait. He couldn't help but try to catch a peek of the feminine petals of flesh just below her fingers. Ah...there was a glimpse! It was small, but it was there.

Logan's cock swelled so rapidly that he was relieved that the guards were outside the room rather than inside. Besides, if any of them laid eyes on this intimate gift he would have to have them executed. No man other than himself would ever behold her beauty.

Where could he place this gift? No maid would be permitted to see it when his room was dusted and cleaned daily. And then he knew. He had a dressing room that was forbidden to everyone save his valet, and even his valet only entered when Logan specifically requested him to.

And, as luck would have it, there was a chaise in his dressing room on which he could recline as he...enjoyed her portrait.

In fact, he decided, now was a perfect time.


	15. Chapter 15

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #15**

"Argh! What isit, Jasper?" Annika groaned, waking reluctantly from a deep slumber. She had also been wakened from a highly personal and pleasurable dream with her darling Logan that was now interrupted and gone for good, sod it!

"Your Highness, Walter has your next objective for you. He's waiting for you in the Brightwall Tavern and says it's quite imperative that you meet him there. I apologize for waking you so early, but he was rather adament."

"Well, _I'm _rather adament about getting my rest, blast it!" Annika glanced at the bedside clock. "Wait...he had you wake me before Dawn? This had better be important!"

"I...ah...am sure that it is," Jasper replied, sounding a bit dubious now.

"Of course," she replied waspishly, still ill-tempered at her early rousal and loss of the extremely erotic dream that found her still in quite a state of...unsatisfied desire. "His liking of the local beer couldn't possibly have anything to do with this at all, could it? Or that he likely drank the night away and never went to bed to begin with?"

She loved Walter dearly, of course, but on occassion her mentor got under her skin. The man deserved his pleasures now and again, but did he have to indulge so frequently in them in Brightwall? For goodness sake, would he even be able to leave the town once it was time to move on?

Now she chuckled. Of course he would! Who knew when he'd find another tavern so much to his liking, however? Bowerstone was known for fine ale, but Walter had always had more rural tastes when it came to his brews. Well, she'd buy the tavern and stock up their supplies of beer for him in the Sanctuary and keep the old soldier happy. It would also add to her growing fortune.

"All right, Jasper, everything's fine. I'll wash, dress, and meet him there soon."

"Thank goodness, Miss," Jasper replied, obviously relieved. "Don't forget to eat something. I have the feeling this will be a very intense day for you. Be prepared for battle."

"Battle?" she groaned. "Very well. I suppose I was overdue. Heavens forbid a Hero have more than a few days off, at most. I have bread and cheese here at the Lodge, Jasper. Don't worry, I'll eat."

* * *

><p>"This is the plan?" Annika asked, her mouth gaping open like a fish gasping for air. Walter and Samuel were at the table on the top floor and looking at her expectantly.<p>

"I'm to take this filthy man's...ugh...clothing, disguise myself as a mercenary, sneak into their camp and kill Saker? Saker, the most notorious mercenary there is? The man so enormous that even Logan's soldiers fear him and piss themselves?" She glanced with both trepidation and distaste at the mercenary who was out cold at their table.

"Well, ah...you _are _a Hero," Samuel said, wincing, seeing the truth behind Annika's words. "If anyone can take him down, you can."

"All you have to do is pass through the camp," Walter added, patting her on the back reassuringly. "You won't have to deal with anyone but Saker himself. Besides, if you are crafty, you can likely sneak up on him!"

Annika rolled her eyes. "You really think it will be that simple?"

"Why not?" the gruff soldier replied. "You'll look just like all the others and blend right in. Just add a tattoo and some facial hair and you'll pass easily."

"Easily?" She felt a sick churning in her gut. "I don't know..."

Walter stood and embraced her now. His affection, as well as his confidence in her, flowed over her like a comfortable cloak.

"Annika, I would never ask you to do this if I wasn't absolutely certain that you will succeed. You are quite skilled now, and not just in close combat, but in acrobatic evasion tactics. These mercenaries know only how to fight, not defend themselves adequately. Balls; they are so incredibly confident in themselves that even when being shot at they still stride forward with nothing but swords or knives! Annika, Saker will be a very difficult enemy to defeat, but not impossible. Not for you."

* * *

><p><em>I'll have it on record that I grudgingly admit that Walter was, ultimately, correct. It was absolutely disgusting to don the filthy outfit of a passed-out drunken mercenary, copy his ugly tattoo on my arm, and paste on facial hair! It was humiliating, yet at the same time, I was strangely invigourated! I had never done anything like this before, and I enjoyed the intrigue of it all.<em>

_Poopsie and I simply strode into the Camp as if we belonged there, and nobody thought anything of it! All I had to do was grunt a few unintelligible responses to the odd greeting now and again and it wasn't long before I found Saker. But, from that moment on, things got...messy._

_Suddenly someone realised that I wasn't "Jimmy" and so I had to kill him and his two friends. Drat my feminine voice! Soon, the entire Camp knew that I was an imposter. I had no choice but to flee into the large fighting pit as dozens of the brigands rushed me from behind._

_As soon as I entered the pit Saker stopped his men and addressed me._

"_You sure as hell aren't one of Sabine's Dwellers, that's for damned sure," he growled, removing an enormous and reeking cigar from his mouth, "but you'll die like one!"_

_He was the largest man I had ever seen! The descriptions I had heard of him and the posters of his image did not do justice to the man who leaped down before me. He was easily seven feet tall and so broad that I doubted that even if I had skill with a gun that bullets would do him much damage. All I had at my disposal was my sword and my magic._

_And then I thought of the potions! I knew I needed one, and quickly! But which one; Slow Time, or Summon Creatures? _

_The one to Summon Creatues seemed promising, and so I grabbed it out of my Bag and downed it, wishing for creatures to appear and help me, or at the very least, distract Saker._

_Instead of creatures appearing, I made quite the laughingstock of myself by vomiting all over my own boots! Apparently, drinking the potion was not the correct method for utilising it. As Saker laughed and hurled a ball of raw fire at me, I drew out my last bottle. I opened it and hurled the contents on the ground, hoping for the creatures to come before Saker could pummel me to death with his boulder-like fists. _

_I was weak from vomiting and feeling cold all over, but at least I got the potion usage correct! Creatures appeared that resembled shadows and short squat figures also appeared that were...Hobbes? I wasn't sure, but I didn't really care. At that point any assistance was welcome._

_I finally scrambled to my feet and couldn't help but stop and use my bandana to wipe the remains of my breakfast from my boots. I am a Princess, after all, and I do have my dignity to keep intact!_

_Saker, luckly, had to focus on the creatures as they surrounded him relentlessly. I used my own fire against him and blasted him again and again, but didn't dare get near to him. Several times he performed a manouever that I had never seen or even read of before. He would occassionally squat down and pound the ground with his fists so hard that the entire area around him shook and quaked. _

_I admit that I myself was shaking and quaking after I saw this and began to have serious doubts about Walter's faith in me. But then something happened that changed all that. My Poopsie, my wonderful, wonderful friend, charged in with the creatures and began fearlessly attacking this giant of a man! As soon as I saw that, my own courage returned and I also charged in._

_I was careful to back off or dodge or roll whenever he readied one of those fire-bombs of his, or when he struck his fist to the ground. But I soon noticed that he would pause after one of those strikes and inadverdently give me the opportunity to, if there weren't too many creatures around him, stab him with my sword, or hurl my magic at him if there was no easy opening._

_His men began to descend the walls to help him, and that's when I knew I was in real trouble. Not all of them headed to defend their leader, some came after me! But with a few area spells of my magic and some more of what Walter calls my 'acrobatics' between fire spells, they backed off. _

_I lunged in towards Saker again when he kicked Poopsie so hard he screeched in pain. I stabbed him as hard as I could, but still the man did not fall! Limping, Poopsie came back to my defense, but I called him off. I would either finish Saker myself, as the summoned creatures had vanished or perished, or he would finish me._

_Just as I began to believe I had lost the battle, the gigantic man dropped to his knees before me and called off his men. I was so stunned that I was speechless, which turned out to be quite fortuitous. I probably would have babbled something totally embarrassing, and standing in silence made me appear dignified, rather than terrified and shaking on the inside._

"_Stop! You've won," the giant gasped, dropping his hands to his knees and bowing his head. "This battle is yours. Kill me or let me live; it's your choice. My men will honour it."_

_He looked up at me and stared me straight in the eyes. I could see his sincerity. This man had honour, and even though he had committed many evil deeds, I saw a slight glow about him that indicated that he was not so evil at heart that he would be beyond redemption. _

"_We may be nothing but mercenaries, but we have our codes, just like any other soldier. We'll let the Dwellers be. That is a warrior's promise."_

_Saker bowed his head again, waiting for my decision. I had absolutely no intention of killing him now. He had the glow! He was not completely evil, and he did have honour. Perhaps..._

"_Saker," I said, offering him my hand, "stand. I have a proposition for you."_

_Taken aback, he retrieved his cigar and held out his other hand to me. I assisted him to his feet, which almost caused me to strain my back, but I pretended that his weight was nothing._

"_What do you propose?" he rumbled._

"_I propose that you help the Dwellers instead of harming them."_

_His face registered shock. "Help them? How? They are few and they can now hunt again freely!"_

"_Yes, they can hunt," I conceded, "but I need them to be able to do more. You see, there will be a revolution in the future, and I am destined to lead it. But to lead it successfully I need capable warriors. You and your men are exceptional warriors. Sabine's Dwellers are supurb hunters, but they are not accustomed to fighting men or beasts. You can teach them. You can instruct them. Do this, accost no more travellers, and I'll not imprison you and your men."_

"_Who are you?" he asked, his eyes narrow, but with curiosity instead of anger or suspicion._

"_I am Princess Annika, and I am beginning to find followers for my Cause. So, do you agree to my terms or not?"_

"_The Princess, eh?" He then barked out a laugh. "Men! I've been not only bested by a woman, but a Princess as well! It seems we have royalty in our midst! What say you to her proposition? Shall we work with the Dwellers and join the Princess when the time comes for revolution?"_

_To my surprise, as I had more than half-expected Saker to refuse me, they all raised their fists and shouted fiercely, "Aye!"_

"_There you have it, Champion! We accept your terms. If you can convince the Elder Dweller to accept our tuteledge and new alliance, we will become your finest soldiers. That is another promise from Saker, leader of the Mercenaries!"_

_I have done it! I have gained not only Saker's respect, but the respect of all the mercenaries. I will now instruct Walter to go to Sabine and arrange for the mercenaries and the Dwellers to co-exist, or at least work together, and we will be one step further on my Journey._

_Yes, my Journey. I still do not know if I am pleased about my Journey as Hero or not. I suppose I'll do my best to be, as dreading every step surely will not help Logan or Albion. Still, I'll also do my best to do only good for Logan and our People. I just hope that at the same time, people won't look to me with blind faith and love and despise my Logan any more than they already do. _

_Until my Path becomes clear and the Time is ripe for whatever I must do it is imperative that Albion remain intact._

* * *

><p>Annika decided that she and her dog would return to Brightwall on foot. She had several errands to run, after all, and some were in Mistpeak Valley.<p>

It was extremely annoying that in order to gain friends in Brightwall she had to take on a number of fetch and carry tasks! Surely a Hero in the making had much better things to do than deliver this item or locate that one. But no, she had to do these stupid things and win friends, as Jasper and Walter stressed.

How thoroughly annoying, dull, and time-consumingly tedious! She had already spent several precious days running such errands and her nerves were wearing thin. It was a good thing that her doberman didn't mind unearthing the various silly items the villagers couldn't seem to live without: books, scrolls, rings, keys, and other such items. How in the Hells did they get buried in that horrid snowy region in the first place? Did these idiots bury them themselves and then decide to move to town and forget about them until a Hero arrived?

Sighing, she finally made the final delivery of a spicy romance novel to a woman who had, for some unfathomable reason or other, decided that living at the top of a frigid mountain was a good idea. Annika handed over the book to the woman named Elspeth and checked it off in her book of tasks.

Finally! She could return to Brightwall and find out if Walter had been successful in persuading Sabine in allowing the Dwellers and the Mercenaries to join together. Just as she and Poopsie were rounding the final curve on the way out of Mist Peak and towards Brightwall they were accosted by what had to be Hobbes.

The creatures were short, hideous, wrinkled, and distorted versions of children! Some were obviously soldiers as they were wearing stolen Albion red uniforms, and another held staves and was a mage. The rest wore loin cloths and used clubs. And all were drooling, determined, and screeching for her blood.

Damnation, but they were tough and quick! Annika soon found that she did more acrobatics to defend herself from them than any other enemy. The bullets, clubbings, and smagical bolts of what felt like shock spells were unending.

Every time she would cut one down three others would begin beating her with clubs or their fists. And then skeletal Hobbes appeared. So, she would have to kill the mage, first. She went after him full force, but he was not easy to take down, despite his lack of armour. The others consistently circled and beat her until she was so exhausted and in pain that she wondered if she would survive.

Poopsie, bless his heart, helped her immensely. He was able to distract three of the eleven of them and at last Annika had time to charge up her fire spell and destroy the mage. Once he was down, the rest were all there would be.

Annika fought as she had never fought before. And, to her chagrin, the soldiers with rifles actually began to use their own unique dodging techniques of twisting and contorting their bodies to protect themselves against her! How dare they? They were supposed to be former children, not champions of brawling!

Still, it was either fight or die. Annika did her best. At last she no longer dared to use magic, as every time she attempted to she was clubbed so badly from behind that if a truly solid blow landed it would fell her. That left her, her sword, and her faithful dog. She began to slice madly and desperately.

Once again, and she had almost forgotten the incident, her world slowed and cleared. Time seemed to crawl just slowly enough to allow her to make every strike count. When the last Hobbe finally lay dead at her feet, she stood, swaying and exhausted.

The world returned to normal and suddenly she felt her knees stinging and realised she had fallen to them. Poopsie immediately rushed to lick her face and attempt to comfort her. But what comfort could there be for a Princess-Hero who was almost killed by a group of Hobbes? She could fight mercenaries, bandits, the undead, and wild animals. Never had she come so close to death as now.

Poopsie suddenly licked at her blouse and Annika looked down at it. There was a tiny bloodstain just above her heart. There was blood all over her, true, but this was not Hobbe blood or blood from her many injuries. This was...different.

She unbuttoned her shirt and examined the area. What she saw was quite extraordinary. Over her heart was a tiny wound that was no larger than...than...the thorn of a rose? Yes, it appeared to be precisely that. It bled for a few more moments, and then quickly closed.

Annika could scarcely believe her eyes. Yes, she was a Hero, and Heros healed quickly, but not this quickly! The puncture was deep, and besides, she had not been struck there! No club or shock bolt had done this; it was far too tiny.

Suddenly she sensed Logan so palpibably that she could almost feel him. As she swayed on her knees, she could swear she felt his arms enclose her gently and his passionate and loving lips kiss her cheeks. Indeed, some of her tears vanished into a phantom mouth.

He was here! But how?

"Logan?" she called out, barely daring to move lest the comforting circle of his invisible arms disappear. "Logan, are you here? I...I can feel you!"

She heard no response. Still, she felt better. She remained contentedly in the circle of her love's arms.

* * *

><p>As soon as the Princess reached the Brightwall Bridge she collapsed into a sobbing heap against the brickwork. She knew she was safe from further attack, but the memory of the one she had just barely survived was so traumatic that she feared she would be unable to fulfill the role of Hero no matter what anyone beleived. Despite the earlier presence of Logan, or rather, his phantom, the horror and fear returned almost tenfold.<p>

If she couldn't even fight Hobbes adequately, how was she supposed to lead a revolution? How was she to gain followers if a single Hobbe with a club could slay her?

"Stop it!" she whispered to herself, "you'll just have to learn how best to fight them, that's all!"

"Ma'am?" a young boy's voice said timidly.

Annika glanced up to see a child standing near her.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt? I can fetch someone to come and help you!" the child offered.

Annika did not recognize this boy, but there were numerous children in Brightwall, so that wasn't a surprise. She did her best to smile. She dashed a blood-stained hand across her face in an attempt to wipe away her tears.

"Thank you, child, but I'll be all right. I have fought mercenaries and Hobbes today, and I'm afraid that I am distraught and exhausted."

"But what hurt you so badly?" he asked, coming closer.

"I'm embarrassed to admit it," she said to him, "but the Hobbes did. I just killed a band of them at the edge of Mist Peak. I've never encountered Hobbes before, and they nearly killed me."

"Hobbes kill a lot of people," the boy said, "but they didn't kill you. You got them good, anyway! Now you'll know what to do next time, right? So you won't get hurt so bad?"

Annika could see that he was trying to cheer her.

"I suppose so," she said, and gave him a weak smile. "I fear that I will still dread them, however. I've heard that they are many in Albion. I...I hope I am fortunate enough to escape with my life again next time."

"You will, Ma'am, I'm sure of it!" the boy said. "Here, take this. It's a healing potion! My mom makes them and you could sure use one."

"Thank you," Annika replied, not arguing. She gratefully downed it and felt significantly better.

"Are you sure you'll really be all right?" the boy asked her.

"Well, if I have someone watching my back on occassion when Hobbes are about, I'll be just fine!" she quipped, her spirits rising.

The boy grinned. "Well, then I'll go now. I hope to see you later!"

"Thank you," Annika said. "I'm sure you will!"

The boy ran off. Annika never noticed the purple band tied to his upper left arm.

* * *

><p>Logan waved away his counselors abrubtly and said that he had taken care of enough business for the day. In truth, he knew something was wrong and he had to discover what. He rushed towards his chambers. The moment he was inside he unclasped his chest plate and opened his shirt.<p>

Yes, the scar above his heart had opened and was bleeding.

Annika was in trouble! He felt terror flood him and he was about to rush to the Map Table when a sense of calm stopped him. She would be all right. He knew it in his very soul. His blood sacrifice had indeed helped her! But, he then feared, for how long? She had barely begun her journey and she had almost died! This was too soon for such a trial for her, wasn't it?

Logan dropped to his knees and felt tears streak down his pale cheeks. His Annika was hurting and afraid, but she was alive. He stretched his arms to the empty air before him and imagined that he was holding her and kissing away her tears. Terror, nausea, and doubt cascaded over him in an icy-cold rush. This was how she was feeling right this moment! But...he felt her! He felt her feelings! Surely this was indeed his Annika and their Bond was allowing this.

Oh, could it truly be so? Could she, through their love and his blood-letting for their love and as an offering to the gods, feel him as he was now feeling her? And, more importantly, could he comfort her, even a little?

He remained on his knees, eyes closed and embracing empty air; yet it was not quite empty. What his arms embraced was not solid, nor was it intangible. He felt something warm and shaking and utterly terrified. But when he pressed, the sensation vanished, so he drew back his touch and gentled it so he could resume feeling what he knew was his Annika.

"Logan?" Her soft voice whispered into his ear. "Logan, are you here? I...I can feel you!"

"Annika!" he cried out desperately in response. "Yes, I'm with you! Can you hear me? Can you? I can feel and hear you! Can you? Can you...come closer? Let me comfort you!"

But he did not hear her again, and slowly the sensation of her trembling body vanished, leaving his arms empty and bereft.

However, he was not entirely without hope and even pleasure, of a sort. He knew that he could help her. He now knew that if she were in serious trouble he would know. He also knew that either the Love Bond or the gods, or both, were helping them.

He had something to do, however. He had to aid her in a material way. He had to discover what enemy had nearly killed her. He would await his runners and spies and find out who or what had hurt her so badly that she had nearly been taken from him.

When he found out what he needed to know he would have her watched more closely and aided on occassion. Surely that Seer and the gods would allow her _some_ assistance. No-one was invincible, not even a Hero.

And, as he had just been painfully reminded, neither was his Annika.


	16. Chapter 16

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

_A bit of masturbatory indulgence and a few thoughts from Annika and Logan's. Sorry so short, but this length seemed appropriate for this chapter! I hope you enjoy this until I update again, which will be soon! :)_

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #16**

Snuggling beneath the covers with Poopsie Annika looked longingly at Logan's portrait. She had returned to the Lodge as soon as she could. She had reported to Walter at the tavern and explained everything to him. He had been, contrary to what she had expected, pleased at her proposal to Saker. He said that he would journey to the Dweller Camp the next morning.

Returning home to the Lodge was Annika's greatest relief. She had taken a long bath and tenderly cleansed her many wounds, lingering over the strange tiny thorn-like one above her heart. And now, looking into Logan's painted eyes, she was absolutely certain that he had been responsible for it.

"Logan," she whispered, sitting up and willing the 'Logan' of the portrait to hear her, "did you do this? Did you sacrifice something for me?"

Of course there was no response, but that did not deter her. "I was nearly killed, but then I was suddenly able to concentrate like a Hero should! But, Logan, I should not have been able to. I was terrified, almost beaten to death, and I had no focus left! But you...you did something, or offered something, or...I don't know what! But you somehow helped me. You saved my life. And you held me in your arms."

The last part was said softly, slowly, and wonderingly. Annika never broke eye contact with the portrait of her love. "You held me and comforted me."

Warmth suffused her like a heated shroud, slowly seeping into her aching muscles and strained joints. She lay back onto the mattress and felt her canine friend snuggle into her side as if he also felt the heat. Still, she did not break her gaze from Logan's. The warm and soothing sensation continued to flow, swirl, and caress her body, settling where it was most needed, and working its apparent magic. The young woman was gradually regaining her strength and health. And one other thing, the thing she needed most; courage.

"Are you giving me your strength, Logan?" she whispered in awe. "Are you giving me from...yourself?"

The thought both humbled and frightened her. If he was giving his own life and health to her, how was he faring in return? What if, for every bit of strength and life he gave her, he lost some of his own?

Annika now squeezed her eyes closed. "Logan, I'll try to not worry! I know you aren't a fool and you want us to be together forever, and we can't do that if you die. Still, I'm afraid for you! You can't help but love me and want to protect me, but you can't do yourself serious harm in the process! You just can't!"

But she saw the hypocrisy of her own words. Were she in Logan's place, she would do precisely the same. She would give anything, do anything, to keep him safe. Just as he was for her right now.

She opened her eyes and locked them with his again, and for a moment she thought she saw the eyes in the portrait shimmer. No, she realised, they had indeed shimmered, but from what? Happiness? Relief? Or...exhaustion?

"Oh, Logan," she said, "I'll make you proud! I'll not repeat my mistakes of today! At least I'll try my best not to."

She sat upright once more and this time reached for the glass of burgundy wine on her bedside table. She was a terribly naughty creature, she knew! After all that had transpired today, she found herself gazing at his visage with desire now. Whatever would Logan think?

"I'm such a wicked thing!" she said out loud, and Poopsie whined, making her giggle. "But Logan loves that about me! Poopsie, you'd best get out of bed for awhile."

Her dog blinked slowly and gave her a pleading look.

"I'm sorry! But I have...things to do! Come back a little later."

The doberman hopped out of bed, huffed in indignation, and trotted out of the room.

"Now," Annika said, "what would you like to do to me, Logan?" She tossed the bedsheets aside and removed her shift, dropping it to the floor.

"Oh, of course!" She lay down and closed her eyes, running her index finger over her cheeks, just barely grazing her flesh. Logan loved touching her face. He would trace her cheekbones with his fingertip, and then circle her lips with it, delighting in teasing her. She would then capture that finger in her mouth and suck on it, invariably making him groan.

She sucked on her finger, imagining it was his, and it helped. A little. Of course she knew she was touching herself, as she often did of late, but still, it brought her pleasure. Tonight, she thought, she was sure she'd have more than usual.

Those same fingertips slid slowly down her throat, pausing at her pulsepoint, before sliding down further. Her palms now joined her fingers and wrapped around her breasts, impatient for them to be squeezed and kneaded. She did so, just as Logan did. He appreciated her generous 'endowments' very much, and took great pleasure in them. He'd then kiss and nuzzle her mounds, and rub his sometimes stubbled chin into them and make her giggle. She couldn't do that to herself, but she could pinch and roll her nipples, as he did. Oh, that felt good! She did it some more, and then again, until her nipples began to become sore. The stinging pain blended with pleasure was perfect.

She liked that. She craved that. Logan would make them so sensitive and tender that she'd almost beg him for reprieve, but both knew that wasn't what she truly desired. He'd then lick, suck, and nip them until each flick of his tongue, each suckle, or each small bite would shoot a bolt of hot wetness and increased desire to her core.

Annika inadverdently pinched her nipples too hard, and felt pain shoot from them straight to her sex. Yet it was a pleasant pain, a Logan pain, the perfectly passionate and loving pain-pleasure they both loved. She slid the fingers of one hand to her wet pink folds.

Ah, yes, she was almost soaking wet! That's what Logan liked. He loved her wetness, heat, and her smell. Annika could smell herself now, a musky peachy scent, and as she pressed her thumb to her clit, her body involuntarily twitched. She squeezed her breast hard and began thrusting her lower fingers into her body and pressing her slick nub at the same time.

Oh, if only Logan would take her completely! She was pleased that she couldn't accidentally take her own virginity, but the feel of even her own slender fingers inside her warm passage felt wonderful. She longed for his long thick shaft to penetrate her, stretch her, and yes, hurt her! When he hurt her, she would be truly forever his and his alone. No, she would not lay with another. She had not only promised him, but she did not wish to. Only Logan could satisfy that gaping empty need that only increased with time.

Her eyes swept to his portrait again as her body convulsed and she began to shudder. The hand that had been gripping her breast now seized a fistful of the blankets and squeezed as she now used her wet fingers to rub her clit frantically. Their eyes met as she arched upward and cried out her release.

"Logan!"

* * *

><p>Albion's King rolled onto his stomach and ground his pelvis into the mattress, thrusting hard. He had to have her! No matter what he had told her before, he had to take Annika and make her so utterly his that she would never, ever, desire another man.<p>

Her passion-filled green eyes locked with his even though it was dark and he knew he must be dreaming. She writhed and shuddered and arched up into him, welcoming him into the deepest depths of her body. She cried out his name.

"Annika!" he growled harshly, gasping and releasing inside her. "You're mine, do you hear me? You are mine! Completely mine!"

And then he slowly came to the realisation that he had just come inside his pajama bottoms and had been grinding into the mattress. Again.

Sod it! Damned dreams! As much as he craved them, needed them, even lived for them, they were also a bloody nuisance. Not that he wanted them to stop, but having wet dreams like an untried boy was becoming rather embarrassing.

So be it; his valet wouldn't dare say anything.

But tonight...the dream had seemed to be more than a dream. It had felt...real. Logan knew he hadn't penetrated Annika, not truly, but they had indeed joined. He had felt her presence and was certain that she had felt his. Her eyes...

Yes, her eyes. He gazed at those beautiful emerald orbs every morning and every night in his dressing room. Now he knew that Annika had indeed hung his portrait, and where.

Logan smiled. What a delightfully naughty little creature she was!

* * *

><p>The following day when Logan had some time to himself he ordered Willoughby to scour the Royal Library for books about magic. Any and all tomes that could be found he wanted brought to him. He also requested books about the gods of Albion.<p>

If he was going to be of use to Annika, he had to learn how he could be, and quickly. He had nearly lost her and he would not take that chance again. He had been a fool to think she was prepared. Who could have been? He doubted their own mother would have been any more likely than Annika to survive that attack.

His Annika had to survive. She had to, and he would see to it that she did, no matter what the cost to himself. All he needed was to also survive. It was unnerving to think that he loved Annika more than Albion, but it was true. However, he would see to it that both survived. He not only loved them both, he had sworn obligations to both. However, his Annika was in the most peril at the moment. He would focus on her first.

Willoughby brought an armful of books and said that he would soon have more. Logan nodded curtly and sat at a table in the corner of the library and selected the first tome: "Protective Magics." Immediately he skimmed to the most powerful spells he could find.

"Well, this isn't entirely unexpected," he murmured, flipping through the pages of the appropriate chapter, "but it will require...spying." He chuckled. "And home invasion. But I think I can manage that, provided she doesn't gut me before I can reveal myself " He laughed. "Or...Poopsie doesn't maul me!"

Just then a maid delivered a wrapped parcel of flowers. Logan snatched them and quickly studied the colours and symbols behind each.

'I am afraid.'

'I am now safe.'

'I am progressing.'

'I am with you.'

'I love you.'

Logan sighed in relief. She felt safe and she was still his love, his Annika. But safe? He did not think so.

"I'll see to it to with all my power that you will be, my love. I swear."


	17. Chapter 17

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #17**

"So, Poopsie, that's one item taken care of!" Annika said cheerfully as she wrote a check mark next to an item in her Tasks Journal. "Sabine agreed to allow Saker and some of his men to stay in the camp as long as Walter resides there for awhile to make sure things go as planned."

She stroked her dog's head and he barked happily.

"Yes, I'm happy, too! I know that Francis will be a splendid teacher for them." She smiled when Poopsie whined in confusion. "Yes, I said 'Francis!' That's Saker's real name! No wonder he just uses 'Saker' now. He tries to keep his name a secret, but actually, I've no doubt that his name is the reason he grew into such a tough and hardened man."

She then thought of how she herself had infiltrated the Mercenary Camp. She had nicked 'Jimmy's' clothes, but his real name was Clarence. Annika wondered how many of those men had names that embarrassed them and either went by surnames or nicknames.

This was an impressive victory overall, she mused; it truly was. Having the Dwellers and the Mercenaries mingling and learning from each other would not only benefit both parties, but aid the Revolution she knew was inevitable. She would not hate Logan, ever, and if she had any say in the matter, and she was determined to, it would be the friendliest Revolution in history. Still, it had to be a genuine one, and she would need all the skilled fighters she could get.

But then, she wondered, what would come next? Doubtless the People would be baying for Logan's blood. As Queen, they would look to her to spill it for them.

"Well, I'm not going to give them more blood, and especially not his! I'll be the best Queen I can be, but I'll find a way for Logan and I to be together, too." She should, perhaps, feel guilty for wanting Logan more than Albion, but she could not help herself. She was, after all, only human. However, she would do her absolute best to be all that Albion needed, even though she would also refuse to sacrifice her own happiness and Logan's in the process.

Poopsie rubbed his head against her thigh as she sat at her writing desk in the Lodge bedroom. "And you will be our Protector, Poopsie, I promise!" She smiled as she scritched him behind his ears. "Everything will be all right; somehow."

Annika closed her Journal and pondered what to do next. So far Brightwall was under control and the people were happy. The new school was open and parents and children were happy. The shopkeepers were thrilled at the money coming into the town as travelers were now passing through safely since the mercenaries were no longer accosting them. There were still the odd bandit attacks now and then, but those she would eliminate.

Of course, that meant...Hobbes. Annika shuddered. Where there were bandits there were Hobbes. She knew they were not in any way connected, but from every account she had heard, when someone survived an attack by one, they were shortly thereafter attacked by the other.

"Mistpeak," she whispered. "Poopsie, we'll be having to go to that gods-forsaken place a lot to rid these good people of not only the rest of the bandits, but those awful creatures!"

Annika tried to quell her fear. She had been practicing harder than ever in the Sanctuary. She was using not only her sword, but sabers, daggers, and even clubs. Anything that she could strap to her person or reach for quickly against one of the dreaded creatures. She also knew that soon, very soon, she would need to learn how to use firearms as well.

Magic? She sighed as she considered it. She had powerful magic inside of her and it was amazingly effective. However, not only had she taken numerous and deadly blows during the battle as she harnessed and focused her fire magic, but she discovered something quite unpleasant when she had returned home later.

There was a small blue line on the inside of her left forearm. She knew exactly what it was, too. It was a Will Line. Her mother's body was riddled with those lines, and though Annika didn't mind seeing them on her, she did not want those lines on herself.

"It is terribly vain of me, I know," she said out loud, glad that her canine companion was always there to listen to her, "but I don't want to return to Logan with blue lines all over my body! I...I want to be beautiful for him." The Princess felt a surge of frustration well inside of her. "I know I should put my safety first and that Logan would want me to use every means at my disposal, but...Will Lines?"

Annika shook her head. No, she definitely did not want those. It was foolish, perhaps, to be so unhappy at the prospect of them, but when she envisioned herself and Logan reunited, she did not picture herself marred with those things.

She stood and stretched. Was there a way to avoid them? Could one of the many books downstairs have any information? After all, there was a tome written by Garth, and he had been a Master of Magic. All the portraits she had seen of him had revealed a very handsome dark-skinned man, but also one completely tattooed with blue swirls and lines.

The man who had been not only an ally of her mother's, but a dear friend, had been covered with them; likely over his entire body. But for himself and Amalia they had been badges of honour. Annika couldn't help but wonder if they could possibly be avoidable for herself.

The worst case scenario was that she would return to Logan and he would not care for those new additions to her body; but he would rather she be alive and tattooed with the strange markings than dead and unblemished. She had no doubt about that. Still...

"I'll try and find out." She laughed as she went downstairs, the doberman trotting happily beside her. "Poopsie, your mama has gone totally off her head! She's so obsessed about her complexion that she's forgotten all about how to best survive against Hobbes!"

However, despite her best attempts to lift her spirits, by the time she reached the bookshelves she was crying in earnest.

She was absolutely terrified of Hobbes and there was no denying it or trying to mask her worry with excuses about acquiring magical markings on her body. She was afraid and that was the cold hard truth. She was worse than afraid, actually. The Hero of Albion was almost petrified with fear.

"Oh, Logan, I need you!" she sobbed, trying to scan titles through her tears. "I need you! And...I need you over something so silly!"

She would not Call him, however badly she wanted to, as that would be a waste of the Three Times. Still, she desired his presence so badly! She yearned to feel his arms enclosing her, his breath whispering warmly against her cheek, his husky voice murmuring comforting words into her ear, and his lips sliding reassuringly yet possessively over hers. She wanted to lay on her side in bed and feel him curled around her.

As she was blossoming into a Hero she had been gradually feeling...larger. With Logan, however, feeling small and in need of protection was something she wanted with her entire being right now.

She remembered how he had lain behind her and cradled her body as she sobbed herself to sleep over the loss of Elliot. Logan's very presence was a blanket of love and comfort. He was a cloak of strength and determination. How this remarkable man managed to rule all of Albion and also find time to see to her was nothing less than miraculous.

She smiled and her streaming tears began to slow. If her Logan was so busy that he scarcely had time to sleep, then he could not possibly be satisfying himself with another woman, could he?

Oh, the jealousy of a spoiled Princess! Poopsie licked her hand and Annika smiled again. She was feeling better.

Logan was thinking of her at that very moment; she knew it. And she knew that he feared for her. As selfish as it was to be pleased that he feared for her, Annika was very pleased, indeed.

"What kind of Queen would I make?" she mused aloud. "I'm certain that I am good at heart, yet I have such petty jealousies and desires! Can a Hero such as I will be, provided I survive, be a good Queen some day?"

"Your Highness," Jasper broke in, "you will make a splendid Queen. Sir Walter and I haven't the slightest doubt."

Annika sucked in her breath. She had forgotten that every time she spoke Jasper could hear her! The old butler normally did not listen in on her while she was at the Lodge, but ever since her near death from the Hobbe ambush, he had been too worried about her to respect her privacy overmuch.

Did that also mean he had heard her...in bed? Of course not, she was certain. Yet she giggled at the very thought and pictured in her mind how the man would blush if he ever realised what she was up to in that bed sometimes. Oh, the nights with wine, erotic reading, and that stunningly handsome, regal, and commanding portrait of her Logan!

"Jasper," Annika said, her spirits rising even more, and a feeling of mischievousness creeping in as well, "since you are listening to everything I say, tell me, do you ever listen to me while I'm pleasuring myself in bed?"

The old man coughed and choked.

"Miss, I never would...that is, I..."

Annika laughed. "Don't worry, Jasper, I'm just teasing you! Still, I was startled to hear you speak to me just now. How much did you hear? I've been speaking to Poopsie for some time."

"Only that you doubt you would make a good monarch. Miss Annika, I cannot allow you to have such doubts about yourself and your abilities! I am absolutely certain that you will be the greatest Queen Albion has ever known, and also its greatest Hero."

"Thank you, Jasper," she replied sincerely. "But to accomplish all that I'll need much more help than I have now, not to mention more skill."

"Miss, I have seen you practicing in the Sanctuary, and I'm certain you'll fare much better against those vile creatures the next time you encounter them. However, I have also taken the liberty of seeking Sir Walter's advice. He suggests that you hunt down the bandits and eliminate them; not only for the safety of travelers, but for practice. He also suggests that you focus on using your newly acquired weapons and more often utilising evasion tactics."

"But that would mean I would be encountering..." She broke off, suddenly nervous.

"Yes, Miss, it would. However, the number of those creatures in Mistpeak has dwindled significantly. Sir Walter believes that the mercenaries have all but eliminated them there."

Annika sighed in relief. Still, she reminded herself, she was a Hero. A Hero should not be afraid to venture outside her own home for fear of Hobbes!

"Jasper, I've been absolutely ridiculous. I'm ready for...Hobbes, whether or not there are any left in Mistpeak. I'll do as Walter suggests and hunt bandits. As soon as I am satisfied that there are few to none remaining, I want us to seek out our next Allies. I do not want any unnecessary delays."

"As you wish, Your Highness. I'll inform Sir Walter. Now, I suggest you get some rest. Bandits are not easy quarry."

"They are for me," Annika replied, surprising herself with an admission that only a short while ago she would never imagined she would make. "But I'll take your advice. I want to do some reading first, then I'll take to bed. Good night, Jasper."

"Good night, Miss."

* * *

><p>Sir Walter Beck was surprised, nay, astounded at how well Saker and thirty of his men were blending in with the Dwellers. At first, predictably, all were uneasy, but within days both the Mercenaries and the Dwellers were not only on civil terms, but relatively friendly ones.<p>

The mountain people soon saw how much Saker and his men had to offer as teachers and their former enemies began to find life in the Dweller Camp more pleasant than they had anticipated. Slowly, friendships began to form and the foundations of trust laid.

Walter was thoroughly taken aback when he saw Saker stride by him with a woman on his arm. Maeve, a widow with a young son, had apparently taken a liking to Saker and the enormous man returned her regard. They strode by, arm in arm, and Walter was further surprised to hear them chatting amiably and laughing. Some of his men teased him good-naturedly, but Saker merely waved them off. After all, Walter then noticed, Saker was not the only soldier of fortune to have found a woman to woo.

Sabine continued to be skeptical and wary, but so far had found nothing to warrant casting their former oppressors out. He even admitted, albeit grudgingly, that the rifle skills of the Mercenaries were not only excellent preparation for the upcoming revolution, but added to the hunting skills of his people. Fewer injuries from hunting were already apparent as well as reduced successful attacks from wild animals while the Dwellers were wood-working and building.

Overall, Princess Annika's idea of co-operation between the two Peoples was proving to be a good one. Walter could only hope that their next potential allies would prove to be as enthusiastic.

"If the poor sods are even still alive," the old soldier muttered to himself. He downed a leather cup of Dweller Ale in one gulp and belched.

"Do you always leave your manners at the Palace, Beck?" Saker grunted, having heard Walter. "There are ladies present, you bonehead!"

Maeve giggled while Walter coloured. The grime-covered Mercenary was right, and it was downright embarrassing. He supposed that just because the man had fallen into fortune-hunting didn't mean that he didn't have principles, manners, or at least held them in esteem at one time.

"Sorry," he said, "you're right. It's this ale. I'm used to the stuff in Brightwall."

"Brightwall ale is pig swill," Saker said. "This stuff is far better. For real men. You're not used to the rough stuff, are you?"

Walter bristled. "I'm a soldier and I've been drinking ale since you were in diapers! I think I know what's good and what isn't!"

Saker barked out a laugh. "Aye, have it your way, then! I just think that if you give this stuff a chance you'll see what I mean."

Maeve smiled at Walter. "It's all right, Sir Walter! We've been through horrible times lately, and our ale isn't what it once was. But it will be again, soon. You'll see!"

"It ain't bad now," Saker replied, squeezing her shoulder affectionately.

"Maybe not," she said, "but as soon as it's Spring, you'll weep with pleasure at how good our ale is!"

Walter quirked a brow. "I hope to visit in the Spring, then."

"Then you'd best learn how to use a rifle," Saker said. "You're about as useful at one as a boil on..."

"Francis!" Maeve gasped.

Saker cringed at the use of his first name, but let it slide.

"All right, all right," he conceded, "but he needs to learn!"

Walter rolled his eyes. "I'll think about it."

"Best think quick," the Mercenary said. "I'm betting revolution will come faster than you think."

* * *

><p>After several more tedious weeks of errand running and dangerous bouts of bandit slaying, Annika sent Walter a message that she would wait no longer. It was time to seek out their next allies. She had been without Logan for what felt like an eternity, and although she knew she would be for far longer, she refused to waste another day. Each day gone was a day lost forever.<p>

Walter had replied, through Jasper, that he was satisfied with the situation between the Dwellers and the Mercenaries and they would head out on the morrow.

That night Annika laid in bed, her mind racing and her emotions awhirl. Who were their next allies, and why wouldn't Walter tell her?

She was exhausted, but it seemed that sleep was determined to elude her. She tossed and turned in worry and frustration until Poopsie became irritated with her and trotted out of the room to seek out a more comfortable place to sleep.

Annika resolutely closed her eyes and was determined to not open them again. She had to rest! Walter had said that their trek would be a long and dangerous one.

And what if Walter's 'allies' turned out to be against revolution and would instead prove to be deadly enemies? She didn't even know the number of these mysterious people. Who were they? Were they friendly? Did they hate Logan so much that they would wish him dead? Would they even respect her wishes on the matter? Could they be trusted?

"Blast and bother!" she hissed. "Stop worrying, try to trust Walter, and get to sleep!"

"Indeed," a familiar voice whispered behind her.

Annika sat bolt upright and stared at the silhouette in the doorway. No wonder Poopsie hadn't barked a warning.

It was Logan.

She burst into tears and extended her arms, silently pleading for him. Her Logan was on the bed and embracing her at once.

"My Annika," he whispered in a hoarse and choked voice, "I couldn't stay away any longer."

She sobbed into his chest and her fingers scrabbled at his hair. She didn't care if it had been her Wish or his.

She needed him, and he obviously needed her.


	18. Chapter 18

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

Special warning – some blood-letting, blood drinking, and cutting.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #18**

"Logan, I hate the thought that we're using up one of our Three Times," Annika murmured as Logan massaged her back. He was on his knees straddling her hips and leaning in to ease the tension from her sore and tired muscles. "But I'm so happy you're here!"

Oh, she was incredibly happy, indeed! Logan was here in her bed, gloriously naked and wanting, needing, and above all, completely in love with her.

"I'm glad, my Annika," Logan replied softly, moving up to her shoulders. His fingers dug into the knotted muscles there, causing her to wince. "You are incredibly stiff, love! What have you been doing?"

"Killing bandits," she replied casually as his skilled fingers eased her discomfort. "I need to hone my skills if I am to become the Hero I'm supposed to be."

"That's mainly why I'm here," he said, pausing in his ministrations.

Annika turned her head and he quickly bent and to brush his lips across her cheek. "I'm here to help you achieve that. Well, that and...other things."

She smiled impishly. "What other things, my Lord and King?"

His lips twitched with amusement and he breathed hotly into her ear, delighting in her resulting shiver. "I'm going to help you be stronger for both of us. I'm going to bind us more closely together than you ever thought possible. Would you like that, my Annika?"

"How...how could I not?" she responded, gooseflesh erupting all over her body. His breath and his hands had a knack of doing all sorts of things to her, but she wasn't complaining.

"Good; then after I love you, please do as I say."

"Only if you agree to one condition," she panted, beginning to wriggle beneath him impatiently.

He chuckled. "Stating conditions, are you?" he teased. "Isn't that what a King does?"

Logan helped turn Annika onto her back and he rested his weight on his elbows above her. He kissed the tip of her nose. "What is your condition, love?"

"Just that," she said, twining her fingers into his hair and pulling his mouth over hers to kiss him. Her tongue traced his bottom lip. "That you love me."

"Of course!" he said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. "Don't I always?"

"No," she said, and her emerald gaze became serious. "You always stop! You never love me completely. I don't want to wait until 'that certain day,' any more, Logan. I never did. Either you take me this time, or I won't cooperate with you. I'll become a Hero on my own. I'll prove on my own that I'm worthy of your love and your trust."

"But I already know that!"

"Then you should have no trouble agreeing to my demand!"

Logan sighed and his features darkened with disappointment. "Annika, if there is even the smallest chance that you will change your mind someday..."

"I won't!" she snapped irritably. "How can I prove that to you? Don't you think I know my own mind, Logan? Don't you think I know myself?" She narrowed her gaze and played her final card. "Either you trust me or you don't, Logan. Choose."

She had heard him use that word before. She had heard him argue with people and at times he would give them ultimatums and choices, and always he would conclude with telling them to 'choose.'

Well, now it was his turn to choose. Did he trust in her or not? Part of her was nearly in a panic that he would refuse her. If he did, she would still love him; that she knew. She would always be his whether he gave in to her demand or not; yet she so badly wanted him to demonstrate his trust now. She also wanted him to love her as completely as a man could love a woman in bed. She was tired of playing by his rules, and this once, just this once, she wanted to be respected and trusted and be given the physical favour he had given to every other woman he had bedded save for her.

Logan closed his eyes and lightly pressed his forehead to hers. "Annika, I have sworn that I'll never love another. I have sworn that I'll never lay with another. Isn't that enough?"

"No. Not any more. Now, no more stalling, Logan. Choose."

He opened his eyes and they were so sad that Annika gasped. All her resolve crumbled in that one pained expression. "Oh, Logan, I'm so sorry!" She pulled him flush atop her and embraced him fiercely, welcoming the weight of his body. "I do not wish to sadden you! If it means so much to you that we don't..."

"No!" he suddenly said, his eyes sparking with a fierce glow now. "You are right, my Annika. I should choose. I should completely trust and respect you."

"Logan," she hurried on before he could continue speaking, "I'll do as you say to bind us and you don't have to take my virginity. I am a selfish creature! I am petulant and impatient, and you are more wise than I ever could be. Please, forgive my foolish ultimatum. I take it back. Do as you will and I'll do as you ask. No questions or protests; you have my word."

Logan seemed taken aback. "Annika, are you certain? But you are right! I should indeed choose. I should give you anything. I want to give you anything. I want to give you everything, even my very life! Why should you release me now; because of a momentary fear on my part?" He raised himself back to his elbows and cradled her face between his palms. "I love you more than _anything, _Annika. Denying you would be wrong of me. Everything I have and all that I am is yours. Ask anything of me and if it is in my power to grant it, it is yours. I choose _you_, Annika, and I choose to do your bidding. In truth, your bidding will always be my greatest desire."

Annika felt something strange and unidentifiable surge through her entire being. It wasn't simply love; it was infinitely more. Love, trust, want, need, respect, and desire were all there, of course. But so was giving to him, needing to be a part of him and he of her, the need for a bond so great and powerful between them that it could never be broken. Yet, there was even more. Somehow, there was either more, or more of all these feelings.

"Logan," she whispered, her voice breaking with raw emotion, "I want you to love me completely. Take me. Bind us in any way you like and in any way you can. Please."

"You needn't say 'please' to me, my Annika." He kissed her so deeply that they could scarcely breathe, but neither cared. She had missed his kisses, the way his warm mouth moved over her lips, the way his tongue twined and danced with hers, and their shared breathing along with the joining in rhythm of their beating hearts.

As they kissed they slowly began to move together. Logan's knee inserted itself between hers and she opened her legs widely, inviting him to position himself between them. Her hands, after several more long moments of passionate kissing, pulled his head to her breasts and silently pleaded for his attention to them. His firm lips locked over one nipple and sucked firmly while he freed one hand to squeeze her other breast.

Annika arched up into him and moaned. This is what she had missed and craved so much in bed! All her nights alone, even with his portrait to entice her and her self-pleasuring never came close to this!

She wrapped one leg around his and pressed her sex up against it, rubbing herself against him, wetting his flesh with her desire. He groaned against her nipple and then bit it hard enough to cause her to gasp. She loved it!

"Make it sore, Logan!" she pleaded. "Make them both so sore that they will ache for days!"

He bent his knee and pressed it into her womanhood firmly, welcoming her gyrations against him and proceeded to suckle and abuse her nipples in just the way she liked. When they were quite red and swollen he raised his head and looked at her, eyes gleaming.

"My knee is soaking wet, dearest," he said huskily, "may I taste of what it is that you are so helplessly seeping?"

"Oh, please!" she begged him. "I've missed you, and I've missed this! I've missed your hands and your mouth on me!" Gods, she was babbling like a fool, but she was desperate.

He chuckled deep and low. "And I've missed you, my love. I think I'll require you to pay my manhood extra special attention." He grinned. "But not until I've made you scream with pleasure."

He rolled off of her slid his fingers into her sex. "My, you are quite wet and ready, aren't you?"

"Your knack for stating the obvious is astounding, Logan," she said, panting and squirming in reaction to his teasing fingers.

He laughed jovially, and Annika was pleased to see his mood so playful. He then slid down and added his tongue to his fingers and she sucked in a surprised breath so deeply that she nearly choked. She had almost forgotten how pleasurable his lovemaking was. This time was different, however. She knew that when he slid his fingers inside her and scissored them that he was widening her passage in preparation for the entrance she had been desperately needing for so long.

"You don't have to be so careful, Logan," she said, her voice squeaking when he flicked his tongue over her clit.

He raised his head. "Trust me, Annika, I do need to be careful. I don't want to hurt you any more than necessary."

"But I want to hurt!" she said, hating how childish she sounded. "If I hurt I'll better remember every moment that you finally claimed me!"

Logan sighed. "If I didn't understand your odd logic so well I'd be worried about your mental state," he said with a wry smile.

"Well, worry or not; I don't care," Annika retorted. "I can't help but be happy that you're going to take me at last!"

Logan hesitated, then kissed her belly. "Mm...so am I, if I am completely honest. Still, let me prepare you!"

She obeyed and allowed him to do as he pleased. His mouth returned to her wet sex. He wriggled his tongue into her warm passage while his fingers brushed over her outer lips. He followed her body's cues as to what pleased her best as he alternated between licking, sucking, and thrusting his fingers in and out of her, gradually increasing from one finger to three.

Annika's entire body tensed as his teeth scraped her clit and then nipped it firmly. She came with a shriek, and when he slid his tongue along her slit and and poked it inside her she gave voice to the scream he wanted. He apparently knew that her heightened sensitivity would send her over the edge of bliss and prepare her best for the invasion to come. Annika panted and writhed and her entire body was coated with a thin sheen of perspiration.

"Please, Logan, take me now!"

"I can refuse you nothing," he groaned. He sat up, gripped her ankles, and spread them as widely as they would go. He wanted nothing less than complete surrender, Annika knew, and she was only to happy to oblige him.

He leaned over her and pressed the tip of his engorged flesh against her opening. "Are you ready?"

"Yes!" she whispered. "Please!" She grasped his hips and he chuckled.

"Such eagerness!" he teased, his eyes shining with a happiness that Annika was pleased to see more frequently in him.

"Kiss me and take me, Logan! No more delays," she demanded, anticipation flooding her entire body. She was positively quivering with excitement.

"This will..."

"I know, I know!" she burst out, impatient once more, "it will hurt. Yes, Logan, I may be an innocent, but I'm not ignorant! Just do it!"

"As you command, my Annika," he said, claiming her lips in a soul-shattering kiss. It truly did feel as if her soul was shattering as he eased himself into her tight body, but she was not frightened. Rather, she felt invigorated. Her soul was shattering only to reassemble itself anew. If Logan's heated pants into her mouth and the tears she tasted trickling from his cheeks were any indication, he was feeling the same.

Yes, it did hurt. It hurt terribly, in fact. The pain was not of the nature she had anticipated, however. It was less of the tearing pain she had expected and was, in truth, an incredible widening and uncomfortable stretching of what seemed to be a body too small to accommodate him.

"Am I...stunted?" she gasped. "Am I too small, Logan?"

He laved his tongue across her lips and stopped moving. "No, Annika. You've never had a man before and your body needs to adjust; that is all. There is nothing to fear." He kissed her eyelids, which were now seeping tears, as were his. "You are perfect."

She felt better and forced her body to relax as much as she was able. She pulled on his hips once more and he pushed, and soon he was making more progress. With every increment of success he whispered an endearment into her ear, and with every whimper she uttered he kissed her damp cheek.

At last he was buried in her completely. When Annika felt their bellies meet she ordered him to stop at once.

Her body was so taut with strain that every inch of her quivered uncontrollably.

"Are you all right?" Logan asked. "Did I hurt you dreadfully?" His eyes bored into hers with an intense concern and Annika felt guilt wash over her.

"No, of course not! I mean, yes, it did hurt, but I'm glad of it!" And she was. She was finally joined with him and they were one. She kissed his lips and as he responded with relief, she felt her body gradually relax. Soon, she felt only minor discomfort.

"You can move now," she whispered and flicked her kitten-like tongue over his earlobe. He shuddered deliciously and obeyed her.

He moved slowly, and Annika felt him strive hard for control. She knew he was close to release and he wanted to bring her with him, but she doubted he would succeed. The feeling was becoming more pleasurable, but still, the discomfort was preventing any true pleasure.

"Logan, it's all right!" she coaxed him. "Let go! I can't come with you this time, and I'm sorry, but know that I love you with all that I am. Know also that I'll make you pleasure me again later!"

He smiled at that and decided to allow himself the release he so desperately needed. He attempted to withdraw from her body then but she stopped him by holding his hips firmly.

"I don't think I'll conceive this time, Logan," she said, attempting to soothe him. "And I need all of you inside me, and that includes your seed."

"But if you do..."

"We'll work it out," she countered.

He gave in and closed his eyes, shuddering violently as the waves of his orgasm took him. Annika held him to her tightly and pressed kisses along his cheek, jawline, and throat. Her pleasure at their victory was as great or greater than that of his climax, and she knew that he realised that.

* * *

><p>"Allow me, Annika, and don't be afraid. This is part of the Bonding I desire for us."<p>

Annika was mortified when he parted her thighs and studied the blood upon them and her sex. "Allow you to...what?"

But she knew. He intended to take her virgin blood into himself.

"It doesn't have to be this particular blood that I drink," he said softly, catching her embarrassed and puzzled gaze, "but it must be your blood, and rather than cut you with my dagger and wound you, I'd much prefer to take the blood you've already so lovingly shed for me."

Well, when he put it like that...

She lay back obediently and let him lick and suck the blood from her thighs. She couldn't help but flinch when he laved it from her sex, however. His seed was mixed with it! But he didn't seem to mind and she slowly relaxed and allowed him his way. Soon, she felt that he was doing more than he needed to as he lingered there. She felt that talented tongue of his snake and slither its way around her swollen and sensitised flesh. Her body began to arch and bow and soft mewling sounds escaped her throat as he became more and more determined to bring her to the pleasure she had not achieved before.

He was not satisfied until she was writhing and gasping and begging him for release. After teasing her relentlessly by stopping every time she was near to coming, he at last gave her the reward she craved.

Only when Annika lay panting and exhausted on the damp bedsheets did he take his dagger from the bedside table. Her eyes followed every movement as he met her gaze, then lowered it to his chest. He pressed the tip to the small scar above his heart that she had just noticed was exactly like hers, and sliced into it. He pulled the blade further down, elongating the scar, until his blood was flowing freely.

"Drink, my Annika," he said. "Drink, and wish for us to be bonded in blood. Wish for me to use my blood to aid you in your quest and your very survival. Please, do this for me."

She wasn't at all hesitant or made queasy, as she knew most people would be. It felt...natural. She sat up and embraced him. She pressed her mouth to his wound and drank.

"Say it, Annika," he groaned. "Say, 'I Bond myself to Logan..."

"I Bond myself to Logan..." His blood was salty and metallic and so vividly alive!

"In blood and allow his blood to aid me in my quest and my survival," he prompted.

"In blood and allow his blood to aid me in my quest and my survival," she repeated. The life-giving fluid seemed to heat her own blood and make it stronger, more powerful, and more receptive to...something.

"Now, drink some more," he prompted.

She did, and he fervently kissed the top of her head. She drank until the flow slowed to a bare trickle.

"Logan, shouldn't you have said something like that when you drank of my blood?" she asked, wondering why she was the only one who needed to speak while doing so.

"It wasn't necessary," he said. "Only one of us needed to speak."

"And now what? Exactly what is this Blood Bond we share?"

"You mustn't die, Annika," Logan whispered hoarsely, his eyes flicking over her face with a desperation she had never seen before. "This Bond will allow me to help you as much as I can if you are wounded."

"You mean like I was with the Hobbes?"

"Yes, like that," he lied. Oh, the lie came so easily! He couldn't bear to tell her the entire truth. If she were to be injured he would sustain half himself in order to spare her the full brunt. But if she died, he would die with her. However, if by chance he was the one who happened to be wounded or die, she would not be affected. If he had spoken those words to the gods as he drank of her blood, she would share the same burden as himself, and he could not bear that. Not now.

She was everything to him. Although someday she would likely discover what he had done, he did not wish for her to know for the present. Knowing would only hinder her on her Path. She had to proceed with confidence, not fear. She needed to be a Hero, not a timid young woman fearful of harming her loved one.

"Logan," she said thoughtfully, "will you someday tell me all about this? I can feel that there is something you aren't telling me."

So, she suspected something already! Their other bonds; their other, perhaps inexplicable bonds of love, loyalty, and trust, were stronger in them than ever.

"Yes, my Annika, I will. Will you trust me when I tell you that for now it is for your own good? I'll tell you in due time."

She smiled and licked the last drops of blood from his wound, her eyes gleaming. "I love you, Logan, and I trust you. Tell me when the time is right and promise to then let me share whatever burden you have taken upon yourself for my sake."

He was almost frightened now. She was so close to knowing the truth! But someday... Yes, someday he would perhaps allow her to share the Bond, for he knew that she would not wish to outlive him any more than he wished to outlive her. But for now they had to focus on her safety. She was the one at greater risk.

"I promise, my Annika. I promise."


	19. Chapter 19

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #19**

"I hope the people we are looking for are still alive," Walter said as he and Annika entered Mourningwood. He had told her that they would find their next allies in the marsh that Annika had heard of but knew nothing about.

She grunted in disgust as she stepped in something black, foul, and reeking. She stopped and scraped her boot against the exposed roots of a nearby tree. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"Because, come nightfall, Mourningwood is one of the most dangerous places in Albion."

He spoke no further as they continued their journey. Annika had noticed that Walter had been cool and distant toward her all day. She noticed that he continuously snuck glances at her but as soon as she would turn her head he returned his gaze to the path ahead of them.

Finally she could stand no more. She took advantage of her dog's needing to relieve himself and turned to Walter and resolutely put her hands on her hips.

"Walter, what ever is the matter with you?" The old man shot her a quizzical look and raised his broad shoulders in a shrug. She refused to allow him to worm his way out of her question so easily, however.

"Don't play games with me, Walter; I've known you all my life! If you have something to ask me or something to say, just be out with it! I thought we were closer than..." she gestured around them but plainly meant her and Walter's continued silence, "this!"

The old soldier sighed heavily and surprised the Princess by what he said next. "Annika, I also thought we were closer than this! How could you? How could you even consider..." He stopped and obviously struggled with his temper. He took a deep breath and grasped her shoulders. Annika could feel him tremble.

"Annika, I have heard the most disturbing news about you from Jasper. I need to know if it's true!"

The young Hero suddenly knew what he was referring to. Jasper had betrayed her? Or, rather, he knew about her and Logan to begin with? Of course she was aware that she hung Logan's portrait in her bedroom and he often listened for a few moments at a time to see if she needed him; but did he actually hear her and Logan last night? And worse, did he truly tell Walter?

"Walter, you'll have to explain yourself!" she said, hoping that she was wrong. "To what to you refer?"

His hands squeezed her shoulders so tightly that she feared she would later bruise. "Annika, be truthful, and don't feel that Jasper has betrayed your confidence or trust! He merely told me something that could potentially be very harmful to you."

Annika felt her temper rise, but she felt no shame for what occured the previous night. She loved Logan, and had told Walter so! However, he did not know, or had not known, that they were lovers. Or did he?

"And that would be?" she pressed, looking him squarely in his eyes.

Walter's brow furrowed in concern and his trembling increased. "Annika, is it true that King Logan visited you in your Lodge last night?"

"Well, you obviously know that he did, so why ask me?" she countered. "And tell me exactly what Jasper told you!" She was nervous now, as Walter's good opinion of her mattered a great deal. But the flash of anger that suddenly appeared in his eyes unnerved her, as did the possible betrayal of her privacy from Jasper.

"The man is not only discreet, he's also not an eavesdropper," the old man sighed, releasing her shoulders but not her gaze. "He told me that Logan visited you and remained for some time. Jasper was careful to not use the Guild Seal to invade your privacy; but Annika, Logan visiting you concerns me greatly. He's trying to influence you to not become a Hero, isn't he?"

The Princess sighed in relief. She took Walter's large calloused hands in hers. "Walter," she said gently, "you know that I love Logan dearly and that he loves me. I've already told you that I don't want to harm him and that I want to understand him." Walter nodded and waited patiently for her to continue. "It is true that he visited me and stayed for several hours. We've missed each other, Walter! Surely you can understand that! But not only that, he...he actually is helping me! He brings me fine weapons and money. He sees to it that I have everything I need for making my way. He also gives me his unconditional love and support. He knows that I must take my own path even as he must take his." She sucked in a deep breath and wondered if she should tell her mentor and surrogate grandfather the truth. "Walter, Logan and I are very close. I miss him so much that my heart aches! I am doing my best to become the Hero I need to be, but I need more than your support and Jasper's; I also need his."

"So he isn't trying to persuade you to return to the Castle?"

"He is not."

Walter scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I know you aren't telling me everything, but you are a woman grown, Annika. You are allowed your privacy. I know that there is more that you and Logan discuss than your Path. But as much as I fear his influence on you, I also trust that you'll do the right thing and also use your own mind and judgement."

"I will, Walter," she assured him. "I'm not anyone's puppet and I refuse to be. However, my original statement stands. I love Logan and I will not lead a revolution against him out of hatred or revenge. I can not and will not."

"Fair enough," Walter said, hesitated, and then pulled her in for a hug.

Annika had missed his hugs. This great bear of a man was the best parental figure she had and could ever wish for. Still, she wondered if he suspected the true nature of her relationship with Logan. Would he turn against her if he knew? Did he know even now and kept the secret?

"Walter?" She could barely whisper for worry.

"Hmm?" He held her tighter and his love, comfort, and protection flowed over her in a welcomed wave.

"There is indeed much I am not telling you but I hope you'll not shun me if you ever discover it."

"Shun you?" He pushed her away just enough to recapture her gaze. "I could never do that!"

"Don't speak so quickly," she said, her bottom lip quivering, "for my secrets are very great indeed. I just hope that if you know, or discover them someday, you'll not abandon me."

Walter laughed heartily now. "My dear girl, don't worry your head about any such thing! Even though I no longer trust Logan, I have not withdrawn my affection for him. He's become..." He struggled to find the words to express himself. "He's become the sort of King I was certain he'd never be. The only way you can lose me, Annika, if through choice of your own. I also still care about Logan, but I care even more for you. My affection is not so easily lost."

"But if I become Queen and you think me a tyrant, you'll leave me then?"

Walter sighed. "Once, I would have thought so, but I'm not so certain now." He released her shoulders but continued to hold her gaze. "Annika, you gave me a great deal to think about when we first began. You told me then that you love your brother and wish him no harm. I was surprised and angry to hear that, but as time went on, I think I have begun to understand."

"You have?" Annika felt her eyes mist with tears of hope. Could Walter possibly come around to her way of thinking, or if not, at least understand her and Logan better?

"I have," he said gruffly. "Well, not completely, but I understand that when you love someone, that love is not based on conditions. You love him uncondionally, and I think I can understand that. You are showing yourselt to be determined to do what you must, but that doesn't mean you need to withdraw your love." He smiled and his eyes brightened. "And I love you, my girl, for who you are. I hope to the heavens you will be a better ruler than your brother, but I'll stand by you no matter what."

She sighed in relief. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, Walter! And if I...stray...try your best to guide me."

"I will."

"Thank you, Walter!" Annika said, feeling better. "I'm ready to go now. Let's get walking; this swamp is unpleasant."

"The people we seek are not far from here. I hope they have hot soup and cold ale!"

"I just hope we don't run into any Hobbes," Annika muttered, and Walter chuckled.

* * *

><p>Mourningwood Fort was not so bad, Annika mused. The place was clean and orderly, and to her relief there were only a few graves. These men were obviously excellent soldiers. According to their leader, Major Swift, who Annika recognised from his past visits to the Castle, they had been stationed there due to a recent rash of Hollowmen attacks.<p>

Hollowmen appearances and violence in the area had inexplicably increased during the past year and Logan had decided that a fort and garrison was necessary. Not only did he want to protect the few people who lived there, he also wanted to allow for safe expansion, as more citizens were showing interest in something called an 'Eco Lifestyle.' Why they chose Mourningwood was beyond her understanding, but those people, who she found preachy and annoying, were better off there than anywhere else, she supposed.

Major Jack Swift was as gentlemanly and competent as she had remembered. Years ago he had been a favourite at the Castle and been a friend and confidante of the Queen's. He had been kind and soliticious to Annika and even sparred with her. Upon reflection, Annika remembered that he had told her that she would someday be as 'talented' as her mother. Did he suspect that someday she would be the Hero Albion needed? It was likely, she decided. The more time she spent on her studies and traversing her Path, the more she learned that a few people close to her mother knew that a Hero would be needed soon.

But why her and not Logan? Again Annika had to remind herself that his role was that of King and he was where he was needed. She was the Hero. The Ruler and the Hero could not be one and the same, at least not at present. It was frustrating that events unfolded as such, and it was even more frustrating that those who knew more than she decided that she was not to be confided in! It was her life, damn it! Why couldn't she be privvy to her own future? Why was she kept in the dark while others, such as Theresa and perhaps even Walter, sat back and watched her struggle?

Perhaps she was making excuses for Logan by not counting him amongst those who 'sat back and watched,' but she just couldn't be angry or even annoyed with him. After all, he told her more than anyone else and gave her all he could. She knew in her heart that he acted in her best interests. If Walter knew that he was providing her with more than she needed to succeed in a revolution against him, he would likely think twice about him being a tyrant!

She could not confide in Walter. As determined as Annika was to make her own Path as best she could, she knew that confiding in Walter was not in her best interest or Logan's. Besides, Walter kept his own secrets. His aura revealed a trustworthy friend and ally, yet it also betrayed hints of orange, which Annika instinctively knew indicated secrets and suspicions.

Annika seated herself on a bench near a few soldiers who were half-dozing. She had a good vantage point of Major Swift as he conferred with Walter. The Major, she observed, was as handsome as ever, although obviously older. As a child she had a crush on him, but now, of course, she did not see him in a romantic light at all. However, his gentlemanly manners, distinctive large moustache, and his unusual walk, or 'swagger' made him not only a visually appealing commander, but one who naturally commanded respect.

So, this was the man who Walter intended for them to forge an alliance! A good choice, she mused. Major Swift was probably the best commander and soldier Logan had. The man not only had many years of noteworthy experience under his belt, but was known to be an excellent instructor. He did not only lead; he taught. Those were two very desirable qualities in an ally.

Besides, the Princess decided, he was also a very amiable man! Saker was agreeable in his own way once he had agreed to side with her, but Swift was a man she felt comfortable with at once. In fact, he had told her upon meeting her that he soon would sit down with her privately. He said that he wanted to not only know more about her as a person, but wanted to see what she was interested in learning from him.

She had been so pleased! Walter had told the Major that she was an abysmal shot, but Swift merely chuckled and said that all she needed were a few lessons from a proficient. He promised that he would evaluate her natural talents and teach her to specialise with either a rifle or a pistol, although he would instruct her in both.

"Oh yeah, if she weren't the Princess, I'd roger her in a heartbeat!" she heard a voice say.

She sighed. The voice was Ben Finn's. He was handsome and friendly enough, but his pompously high opinion of himself was annoying to her. Still, his manners were open and affable, and overall she decided she liked him. He was, according to Walter, an excellent soldier. When he wasn't gambling, drinking, and womanizing, he was an incredible fighter.

Annika knew he didn't realise she'd heard his remark. She stood and went to where he and his comrades sat. "Ben Finn, if you are daring to speak of me in such a crude manner, I'd reconsider. Princess or not, I'll reduce your 'sword' to a 'dart' if you so much as try to 'roger me' as you so eloquently put it!"

The men with him laughed boistrously and Annika was pleased to see Finn blush.

"Hey, I meant no offense!" he said, laughing along with his men now. "Take it as a compliment! I don't find every woman I see as absolutely stunning!"

Now she laughed. "Very well, Mr. Finn, just make sure you keep your hands to yourself around me!"

"Oh? Are you spoken for?" he asked light-heartedly.

"Doesn't matter," she replied cryptically, "do you want to chance it?"

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "No, ma'am! I'll wait for a willing woman!"

"Well, I'm sure you find plenty in Bowerstone," she replied.

Finn pushed a mug of water toward her. "True enough. The Major is a real sport. When the attacks let up, which seems to happen every couple of weeks, he allows us to take turns relaxing in the city." He puffed up his chest and grinned. "And I don't mind admitting that this uniform appeals to plenty of ladies!"

Annika giggled. "Well, how about a woman like me in my trousers, men's shirt, and filthy boots?"

Another soldier, Phillips, if she recalled his name correctly, chimed in. "You are actually more appealing than you know! A woman in men's clothing is rather..." He broke off and appeared flustered.

Annika laughed again. These men weren't as crude as she feared they would be. They were surprisingly decent for her being the only woman present. Annika knew she was considered attractive, but these men were not making crude overtures toward her. Save for Finn's overheard remark, they were incredibly well-mannered. She did not feel in the least uncomfortable around them.

"A woman in men's clothing is considered erotically appealing?" she offered, pondering on the observation. She now recalled that when she wore trousers the previous year while learning about the castle gardens and the care of the flowers and plants that Logan had looked at her strangely. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, she now recalled. At the time she had thought his stares were of disapproval of her taking on a servant's role, but now she realised what that look meant. He had found her alluring!

"Well, yeah!" Phillips said. "A woman who can wear men's clothes and look good in them is rare. And there's something very compelling about it!"

"More than compelling," Finn said, "it's downright sexy!"

"Well, all that aside, I'm filthy and I smell foul," Annika said, wrinkling her nose as the wind shifted and she caught her own scent. "I need a bath."

"Don't bother," a soldier named Clemons said, "we're pretty sure we'll be under attack soon."

"Ah, the Hollowmen? At least they are easy to kill," Annika replied. "Well," she then added, "kill again, that is."

"True," Finn said, "but it's not so easy when there are sometimes hundreds at once!"

"Hundreds?" Annika's eyes widened. "That many? But there aren't terribly many of you!"

"We're skilled!" Clemons said, "and we've the best leader there is."

There was no denying that he was correct. Major Swift would make a valuable ally, indeed. His honour and rightousness radiated from him so brightly that Annika not only saw his glow, she felt it. Hopefully that honour and rightousness would not prejudice him against Logan so much that he would intend harm to her beloved.

She looked up as the man himself smiled and approached her. She would soon have her answer.


	20. Chapter 20

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #20**

Annika was relieved that she and Major Swift were alone in his private tent. Walter wasn't present as it was best if she and Swift decided for themselves whether they should become allies or not.

"So, you have finally left the Castle, young Hero!" Swift began, pouring her a cup of tea and handing it to her. "As I have suspected, you are treading a similar path to your mother's."

The Princess decided to be candid with this man. "Yes, Major, I have and I am. However, before we go any further I wish to tell you what I told Walter when we left my brother."

Swift set down his own tea cup and leaned forward, keenly interested. "I would be honoured. Please, tell me."

"Major, I know that I must become the Hero Albion needs. I dislike like having my life choices dictated to me by Seers and Prophecies, and I may not have all the leeway I will try to create for myself, but I flatly refuse to lead a revolution against my brother for revenge or for his blood. No matter how much people may despise him, I will not storm in one day, seize the Crown, and execute him."

The Major arched a brow. "Indeed? What _do_ you intend?" His deep brown eyes locked on her emerald ones.

"I intend to do what I must to preserve the safety of Albion and its people, but I will not spill Logan's blood to satisfy those who lust for it. I refuse."

Annika raised her cup to her lips with steady hands while she contemplated the Major's placid face. She felt the need to be completely honest with him. He not only deserved that, but she herself valued honesty and intended to earn the trust of any potential allies by being so. He gazed at her intently for several long moments before speaking.

"I have yet to see you in action or see you even wield a weapon. However, I trust Sir Walter implicitely. I also sense sincerity in you, Princess, and I have already heard of your good deeds for the Dwellers and Brightwall Village. Please, remain here for awhile. Aid us in defending the Fort and allow me to instruct you in the use of firearms. I feel that very soon you and I will come to a mutal agreement."

He smiled and extended his hand to her. Annika took it over the table top and they clasped hands to seal their new friendship.

"Princess Annika, won't you stay and finish this splendid tea with me? It is not often I have the pleasure of such refined and pleasant company!"

"Thank you, Major!" she said, smiling. "But won't Walter feel left out?"

He laughed genially. "I doubt it! He and Finn are old friends and comrades and have much to catch up on. We have time, Princess Annika. Now, if you will, please tell me how you and Walter fare. How do you find the role of Hero?"

"Walter is quite well, but I find the role of Hero to be more responsibility than I anticipated. I shall do my best to not let anyone down, Major, but that task seems to grow more daunting every day."

"Ah, the life of a servant of the People!" Swift said with a chuckle and nodded his understanding. "I have no doubt that you will succeed, Princess. I myself have a similar role, although I have the good fortune to have official guidelines to follow. A Hero has no such luxury, eh?"

She shook her head and favoured him with a rueful smile. "I fear not, Major. But I am determined to do what needs to be done and not dilly-dally about it. I only have my gut feelings to guide me, but I think there is not much time before Albion will need far more unity and strength than the King alone can provide and inspire."

Swift looked impressed. "I see that your senses are keen, indeed. Young lady, I look forward to coming to know you better."

"And I, you," she replied, feeling better than she had in hours. She did not remember her father well, but somehow she was already feeling the stirrings of fatherly affection and trust for this man.

They enjoyed the rest of their tea and conversation in pleasant comraderie.

* * *

><p><em>The men were right. Hollowmen attacked the Fort just as night fell. I was assigned to the mortar to help out a soldier called Jammy. He was the nicest young man! He had, by his own reckoning, seven hundred and twenty-four wounds and was still active! He said that made him the "jammiest" soldier in Albion!<em>

_Anyway, he taught me how to swing the mortar smoothly while he loaded it expertly. We destroyed group after group of Hollowmen the moment they began to spawn. I never knew so many people had died and been buried in Mourningwood! I wonder how old these corpses were? Quite honestly, there were so many in ragged clothing, when they had any clothing at all, that I cannot determine if they were all recent deaths or ancient, or both._

_Regardless, many wielded primitive but effective weapons, such as swords and scythes, and some obviously more recent burials inconveniently had rifles. If they had all managed to breach the walls we would have been doomed. As it was, however, Jammy and I destroyed most of them! _

_Soon the attack was over, and Major Swift declared his and his men's alligience to me. He asked me for only one thing – to restore the Old Guard. I promised him to do so and put him in charge. Then all of the men all cheered for me, which made me feel most uncomfortable, as I think Jammy was the real hero, not I._

_But suddenly all that changed! More Hollowmen appeared and nobody was on the ramparts to see them coming! They broke through the main gate, killing several soldiers, and stormed the Fort. I heard Swift and Walter bellow orders but I couldn't make them out. I just used my sword as best I could and cut through swath after swath of them._

_As I anticipated, they were not that difficult to kill, but Ben Finn was correct when he said that when they attacked in large numbers you really have to be careful. I had to reign in my confidence. At one point, I fear, I became quite over-confident and began to actually have fun slicing and cutting through the dessicated corpses. But suddenly I felt several unusally hard blows to my back and I was felled and barely able to breathe._

_Jammy rushed to my rescue and he barely managed to drag me away from certain death in time. Together we managed to kill some of the largest Hollowmen we had ever seen! I certainly had never seen some so large before! I know I was bleeding, but somehow I was able to continue fighting more effectively than I ordinarily would have. _

_This mystifies me. Why was I able to continue on almost as per normal? Is it because I am becoming more of a Hero? Anyway, I did not and do not have time to dwell on that particular question now. After a few large groups were destroyed Swift and Walter rallied the men. We began to take note of the injured when suddenly more began to spawn inside the Fort. It was unbelievable! Where were they all coming from? I now see why Logan had the need to create a Fort in this horrid place._

_We fought again though we were all exhausted. I stood close by Jammy and was determined to protect him. I felt he had become my friend this day and we fought well together. I saw Finn and the other men I had become aquainted with perform almost as one. They fought back to back and had a rapport I have seldom ever seen, even in practices inside the Castle Confines._

_My heart aches to write this part; but I must. Despite his best efforts and my own, Jammy fell to a large hollowman with strength I had never before witnessed in one that was undead. I remember screaming in rage and sorrow as he was suddenly flew through the air and struck the ground hard. I knew he was dead the moment he landed before me. _

_In fury I fought as I have never fought before. I took this battle personally now. I fought with only my sword and did not need magic to slay dozens upon dozens. In fact, it was as if I was not fighting alone. The strangest sensation overcame me. I felt as if I had the skill of someone other than myself aiding me. Is this what Mother experienced as a growing Hero? _

_I fought along with the others and when I could I took in glimpses of Major Swift. That man is the most graceful fighter I have ever seen or could imagine. The man alternated between his sabre and his rifle with the grace that seemed inhuman. He managed to bark out orders, smoke his pipe, fight expertly, and kept himself from getting dirty. How ever does he manage that? _

_As a Princess I pride myself on trying to maintain a clean and respectible appearance, but by that time I was already more filthy than the average soldier present, but Swift was almost impeccably clean! Walter was actually not much less clean than Swift! I simply must learn how to..._

_I fear I digress. In the end we were victorious, even after the recently deceased Leutenant Simmons rose from his grave and displayed magical skill that perhaps I would risk a few Will Lines for. He was an enormous soldier and quite fat. He must have died by cannon fire, as he had an enormous hole in his torso. His eyes glowed so fiercely that I nearly panicked, but again, a strange sense of calm and...aid?...helped me to refocus. _

_Simmons eyes would glow unusally brightly and I could plainly see that the aura of the actual man was not present, but something evil and malicious had taken his place. The other corpses had presences animating them, but they did not appear so much evil as simply machines of destruction. Simmons was harbouring something dreadful and fearsome, and the aura is black, green, and orange. I will have to look that up and see what I can discover. Whatever possessed his body was able to spawn additional Hollowmen of great strength and numbers. He was also able to teleport himself more quickly to different locations than Hollowmen I had encountered before._

_He focussed his attention on me, but thankfully, due to my new calmness and recuperative ability, and the attentiveness of Walter and Swift, we were at last able to defeat him. When the three of us struck a final blow and Simmons exploded, I could see the aura of the Thing inside him was destroyed as well. It floated above the borrowed corpse and simply...dissapted. _

_I told Walter and Swift of this and both men looked at me so strangely that I think I shall keep such observations to myself from now on. It is obvious that they cannot see the auras and find it odd that I can. Or if the do not find it odd, the look in their eyes told me it either unnerves them or else they expect much more "power" from me in the future than I may be able to provide Albion as a Hero. Either way, I do not need any extra expectations._

_I am too tired to go into details on the actual combat this time, but when I encounter a new enemy I shall. This journal will serve as a confidante to me, a reference guide, and for anyone who may read it in the future a detailed record of these events. _

_I shall, before bedding down this Dawn, relate one last unusual item. After the battle was truly over and we were all assessed for injuries, I was, to my surprise, not as badly injured as I expected to be. My back, which sustained the blows that knocked me to the ground, has several large gashes, but they do not bleed as profusely as such wounds should. _

_Swift saw to me along with several soldiers with medical experience, and all are as surprised as myself. Still, we simply count our blessings that only a scant handful of men died and that I am relatively healthy. I shall heal quickly from even these gashes, I know. I already feel strong and vital._

_As I finish writing these lines, I can barely think coherently for my exhaustion. Logan, I love you! I hope you fared well this day. I am sure I'll dream of you._

* * *

><p>So, the Bonding had worked! He had known it would. His love and Annika's was too intense, too true, and too rare for it to have failed.<p>

Logan had been caught by surprise during a meeting with Willoughby. He had suddenly been pushed forward in his chair, startling himself and the Secretary. He kept his visage calm even as he felt pain lacerate his back and the air momentarily leave his lungs.

His Annika was in battle, he knew! He quickly recovered his poise and told Willoughby that he simply had been sitting in one position for too long and had suffered a minor muscle spasm, or some such nonsense. The man did not question him, but continued to drone on and on about yet another financial crisis.

Logan barely listened to the man as he focussed his energy on willing his strength and experience to Annika. She needed him now and he would not fail her! For what seemed an eternity, but was, in actuality, less than an hour, he felt her surges of strength, adrenaline, and determination. He nearly chuckled. His Annika was a fighter! Still, his anxiety did not cease until he felt the sensations of her battle fade away.

As loathe as he was to part with any connection with her, he knew he must. He did not want her to become suspicious of his part in any of her battles. He needed her to have her own confidence and skill and she did not need to worry over him. She would have plenty to worry about on her own journey, and he could handle himself. For now.

Regardless, he released his connection with her and allowed her to rest.

Later, in the privacy of his chambers, Logan bared his back and saw several large gashes that bled quite profusely. How would he explain these to the physician? He calmly replaced his clothing and determined that he would tell the man nothing. Let the man decide that he had sustained them during combat training.

All that mattered was that he had been of service to his beloved, and together they had won their battle. He knew that she was at Mourningwood Fort. Despite the injuries she had just sustained, she was in good hands. Major Swift was the best man he knew and the finest commander. This battle must have been great, indeed, to wound Annika so.

They had Bonded just in time.

Despite his injuries, King Logan would sleep well that night.


	21. Chapter 21

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #21**

"Botheration!" Annika burst out, at her wit's end, "I think I've done enough shooting for today!"

Major Swift calmly took a puff from his pipe and surveyed the row of cans lined along the fenceline in the distance.

"Princess, I think you haven't done nearly enough. How many cans were set for you?"

Annika gritted her teeth in annoyance. "Fifteen."

"And how many are there now?"

"Eight," she huffed.

"How can you justify having eight cans left after nearly an hour and leaving the range?" the Major chuckled. He couldn't resist teasing Annika. They had spent many days together and were easy in each other's company. He had to push her training harder, however. She was abysmal at shooting and hadn't improved as much as he had expected she would. Nonetheless, she had potential, and he suspected that soon she would be as good as any of his men.

But that was not good enough, he knew. For her to succeed in her Quest for the Throne of Albion she must do far better to survive, and no fighter, especially alone, would survive without ranged weapon skills. It was imperative that she become more skilled than his men; preferably even more so than himself.

"Please, Major, my hands hurt and my eyes ache! I can barely aim at the cans!"

"That much is obvious," he smoothly replied. "My dear, you must focus your complete attention on your target. You cannot hope to become the Hero you must be if you cannot master pistols and rifles."

Annika sighed and raised the pistol once more. "You are right, Major. It's just that I find this so much more difficult than anything else!"

"More difficult? You wield melee weapons with uncanny and unnatural skill and you can command magic, yet you find ranged weaponry so difficult?" Surprise laced his tone. Her skill with her blades, no matter how much natural talent she had, could not account for her current mastery. And magic? His research informed him that even Will Users had to have a great deal of focus to enbale them to not only cast spells, but to cast them properly and at the intended target.

"I do," she conceded, lowering the pistol and looking up at him. Annika's eyes welled with tears of frustration. "I don't know why, as I am utterly determined to do what I must, but this skill is eluding me!"

Swift took pity on her and gently prised the weapon from her hand. "Very well, Princess. Go and rest for awhile. I think your trouble is that you expect too much from yourself too quickly. I fear that impatience is your greatest enemy at the moment."

Annika raised her head in surprise and stared at him. "You're right," she replied, wonder and realisation flooding over her. She was too impatient to focus and learn properly. She was in such a hurry to become the Hero and reunite with Logan that she was her own hinderance!

"No, Major, I think that I will continue. Now, tell me again how to properly fix on my target, please." Annika retrieved the pistol from him and raised it, a determined glint in her eyes.

* * *

><p>Walter watched Annika as she performed her target practice, and once again, she was doing poorly. He had been careful to conceal his impatience and annoyance with her and instead remind himself that everyone had different natural talents. Annika was a wonder with swords and sabres, as he himself was. However, he lacked her bodily agility and evasion tactics. Not only was he large, but he was slow, even for a large man.<p>

Annika was small and quick. She was also determined and forceful. Yet for all the time she had spent with his friend at gun practice her improvement was, at best, scant.

Perhaps Logan had something to do with her poor performance. Had the King discouraged his sister somehow? Had he undermined her confidence, or worse, infused her with guilt that she had left the Palace and his sphere of influence and ventured out on her own?

Walter stroked his chin and watched his beloved surrogate grand-daughter speak with Swift, then raise the pistol once more.

The following shots blasted every target can from the rail. She hadn't hit each one in succession, but she suddenly had improved! Eight cans with only ten shots! The look on her face, even from such a distance, showed Walter that she clearly was ready and capable of mastering guns. Whatever Swift had said to her had the desired effect.

Walter smiled as Swift clapped her on her back and congratulated her.

"Well, Logan, it looks like your sick hold over the Princess may be waning after all," he muttered to himself, pleased.

He loved Annika dearly, but he knew that she was keeping secrets from him, and that stung. However, he had to allow her privacy as she was a woman grown. He knew that she loved her brother and wished him no ill, yet what if she sympathised with him too much? What if she failed to become the Hero who was Prophesied to overthrow Logan because of her compassion for him? What if she could not focus on what was important, and instead, relied on her heart to make judgement calls more than her head?

Perhaps some of the fault lay with him. He had spirited her away in the night and had encouraged her to see her brother as a tyrant. If he had been in her place, he may have reacted the same way she had; with resentment and doubt.

He would change his tactics when interacting with her. He would speak of Logan more sympathetically and less about his tyranny. Maybe then she would confide in him as she once did and would be more open to his suggestions without questioning him at every turn.

Yes, if he became her Walter of old once more, she would respond positively. He was certain of it.

* * *

><p>"You have improved tremendously, Princess Annika!" Swift told her with pride. "Now that you have learned to concentrate properly you could out-shoot even Ben Finn, I'd wager!"<p>

Annika laughed. "I don't know about that, Major, but I feel so much more capable and comfortable with guns now." Goodness knows it had taken her enough time; time away from Logan. But perhaps she could make up for the lost time and hurry on to her next destination.

"Well, you are more than competent, my dear. I think that within another week you'll be my superior."

"And once I am?"

"Then you will be free to leave this place and meet the true Resistance in Bowerstone," Swift said, and then added, "Walter has been irritable and on edge. Have you noticed?"

Annika's brow furrowed and she sighed. "I have, but I thought that he was just disappointed in my slowness in learning to shoot."

Swift shook his head. "No, that is not the reason. At first I thought that perhaps it was, but now..." He leaned back in his chair and stroked his pipe, fixing his eyes upon it. "I sense that he is deeply troubled. Normally he confides in me, as I am his closest friend."

"But he hasn't confided in you?" Annika asked, even though Swift had just said as much. She found that difficult to believe. One had to only observe the two men for a few minutes to see how close they were as friends.

"He has not, and that deeply concerns me," Swift responded, meeting Annika's gaze once more. "I now believe that his failure to speak with me is because his anxiety is over something of deep personal interest to him. The only personal issues I can guess at would be regarding either the next step on your path, Princess, or regarding yourself." When Annika's eyes widened he hastened on. "However, I could be wrong, so please, do not overly concern yourself."

"But I should concern myself, Major," she said softly. "Walter has been a dear teacher and friend to me all my life. But lately, he has indeed been concerned about me, but he needn't be! I am working and training very hard to be the Hero Albion needs. I just wish that Walter would..." She paused and lowered her gaze.

Swift reached over the table and clasped her hand. Their father-daughter sort of relationship had begun to blossom and he genuinely cared for the young Princess. He was distressed by her unease and almost wished he had not brought up the topic in the first place. However, he knew that she needed to be aware, else things between her and Walter could begin to sour. He did not want that for either of them.

"Princess, please go on. You know that whatever you say to me will remain between us." He hoped that she trusted him enough to speak her mind, or her heart; whichever troubled her.

Annika sighed as she pondered. Her relationship with Major Swift had indeed become more personal than either had expected. He was the father figure she had been missing for many years, and, like Walter, a wonderful mentor. However, unlike Walter these days, she felt more comfortable with Swift. Besides, she needed someone to confide in. But how much should she confide? Would she be right or wrong to tell this man her deepest secrets?

Her life without Logan was, despite the people present all around her, extremely lonely. Poopsie was the best friend and companion he could be, but still, he was a dog, and unable to be the trusted confidante she needed. Her heart yearned to confide her troubles and worries to someone, but would confiding them to Swift be a mistake? Yes, this man was now her dear friend, but he was also a soldier and an ally. Where should the proverbial line be drawn between personal and professional relationships?

"Major," she began, deciding to test the waters between them gingerly, "I do wish to confide in you, but I have concerns."

"I see," he replied, nodding. "There is always a worrisome chasm between two people when they have a personal relationship as well as a professional one, is there not? Is that your main concern?"

"Yes," she said, smiling wanly, "but I also have personal concerns of my own regarding your good opinion of me. If I confide in you what I so dearly wish to share, you may lose respect for me, and even come to dislike me, or find me...distasteful. Perhaps even deviant."

The Major was clearly taken aback. "Lose respect for you? Dislike you? Find you distasteful or deviant? Princess Annika, I highly doubt that. I have a good sense of character, and I find nothing about you that gives me cause to feel any of those things."

"But you don't know what I am hiding."

"Fair enough, and you may yet choose to keep your secrets. I do not wish to pry; I want only to be your friend right now." He poured them each a cup of tea. "If you do not wish to speak, Princess Annika, you do not need to, and I'll respect that. But if you do, I can promise you that I will keep an open mind and I will also keep your confidence. That I swear."

Annika decided to again test the waters between them carefully. "I have been keeping in touch with Logan. Not often, mind you, as that is not possible, but I have been."

Swift raised a brow. "And you are fearing my condemnation for that? Princess, he's your brother! You made your feelings about not wishing him harm or ill will quite clear from the start."

"But that's not all, Major," Annika went on, feeling bolder. She sipped her tea and clasped his hand. "Walter is angry with me about that. He says he fears that Logan is influencing me adversely. He is very upset that I've even seen him, much less spoken with him."

"I see," Swift replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "But Princess Annika, Walter is...how shall I put it... He is a man who is very linear in his thinking; yes. He sees goals but often does not see that there are various ways to reach them. He sees a woman, such as you, believes he knows her thoroughly, and thinks he knows precisely how she must proceed. I fear also that he also sometimes sees you as a child still, and not as a woman grown."

Annika smiled. "That's true. I'm sure he still imagines me in my frilly little-girl frocks, my hair tied with ribbons, and carrying my doll about!"

Swift chuckled. "As he's been like a grandfather to you that hardly surprises me! He likely also fears that your brother will persuade you away from your path."

"He said as much," she admitted ruefully, "and although he promised that he would love and respect me and stay by my side, I fear that he may someday abandon me. I also cannot trust him as much as I would like to."

The Major sucked in his breath. "Now, that _does_ surprise me! Why ever would you feel that you cannot trust Walter? He is the most loyal man I know!"

"Is he?" Annika now challenged him, her eyes almost flashing. "He's turned against his King! Regardless of whether he believes Logan to be a tyrant or not, he's turned against him! I understand why, seeing what Logan's policies have been these past several years, but I fear that it goes beyond that, Major. I think he despises Logan personally now, and not just because of his actions as King."

The Major was silent for several long moments. When he spoke again it was softly and with more seriousness than before. "Do you think that Walter will expect you, once you have become Queen, to have Logan...executed?"

Annika's eyes welled with tears and she nodded. "I could be mistaken, but I think so. And besides all of this, I..." She stopped, as her throat was too tight to continue. She gratefully accepted the handkerchief that Swift suddenly handed her and dabbed at her tears. "I... I am also in love, Major," she choked out.

"Ah," he said gently. "And you have to be away from your beloved all this time?" He took her hands in his once more. "I am truly sorry, Princess. This must all be very difficult for you. I cannot imagine what it is like to have all this on your shoulders, not to mention in your heart."

Annika nodded miserably. "I have this revolution to gather, the Hero's path to trod, a man who despises my brother, and on top of all that..." She stopped again.

"Do you want to continue?" Swift asked her gently. "You don't need to, if it causes you pain."

"I...I must get it out. Just...please try to not hate me!"

He clasped her hands more firmly. "My dear, I feel as if you could be my daughter. How could I hate you?"

She locked her watery green eyes on his dark ones.

"Because the man I love, and who loves me in return, is Logan."


	22. Chapter 22

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #22**

Hells and damnation, the Major scolded himself, his reception of Annika's confession had been far less than gentlemanly, as he had, in his shock, spit his tea all over her the moment it left her lips. He had also not been graceful in his comportment, as he had risen quickly and hastily excused himself from the tent.

The poor girl had not even begun to dab at the tea droplets covering her face and neck when he beat his hasty and staggering retreat from her company.

He now stood trembling violently outside the tent and gasped in great lungfuls of air. He did not know what he felt. His mind was jumbled and his sensibilities were in the greatest turmoil he had ever experienced. He had not expected that the man she loved was her brother; the King! He had thought that she loved Finn, perhaps, or more surprisingly, Sir Walter himself. But_ Logan?_

Swift shook his head and balled his fists. Blast it all, where was his pipe?

The worst of all this was that he had allowed the vulnerable and pain-filled young woman in his tent to confess all to him and he not only sprayed her with tea, but hurridly excused himself in a manner most brusque and unbefitting a gentleman.

What must she be thinking? How must she be feeling?

Likely she was terrified that he was despising her even now. Most probably she was also frightened that she had lost him both as a friend and an ally.

Worse yet, she undoubtably felt more alone and judged than ever before. What agony was filling her heart even now?

He could not allow it. After all, could one choose who one loved? Did anyone have a true choice in the matter? The heart and soul, if the person was fortunate, found their match in this life. Hers happened to be Logan, and from what she had said, he returned her sentiments.

Not only, he reasoned, could Annika not be faulted for loving as it was only human nature to crave and need love, she should be received with sympathy and not scorn. After all, as she had just discovered, if she hadn't already, the very one she loved would bring tremdous complications to her life. As she could not control who she loved, she would be, simply because she was a Princess, find herself at the mercy of gossip-mongers and harshly judgemental people. Some would despise her outright, some would pity her, and others would seek to destroy her loved one or take him from her. Yet others would see her as deviant and seek to harm or kill her.

He knew that if he loved someone it would be because his heart and soul reached out to the woman. He would no sooner be able to switch off or ignore his feelings than he could change the colour of the moon. Granted, normally one did not fall in love with one's own sibling, but it had been known to happen.

And Annika was the Hero who was destined to overthrow the King; the very man she loved! He himself wished that she did not love Logan, but the fact was that she did. And he knew her well enough to know that once Annika found her true love she would not, nor could not, waver from that love, no matter how trying it may prove to be. But nor would she ignore her purpose or her path. She was steadfast and determined, and he knew, without a doubt, that she would do nothing less than her best to reconcile her love with her duty.

Oh, if only she had found another to love! Then he sighed. As the Fates, if they even existed, had it, she had not. Logan was her love. Now, he had to ask himself, what to do about it? Obviously, the answer was; nothing. She loved who she loved. All he could really do was decide how to accept her confession and decide how to alter their own relationship, both personal and professional, if he should alter it at all.

His racing heart calmed, yet suddenly began to ache as he heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing from inside the tent.

For the first time in years tears filled his own eyes. He loved this girl. She was the daughter he did not have in blood. He loved Annika dearly and he would accept her confession and comfort her and stand by her no matter what. He knew that as a soldier, he should perhaps reconsider allying himself with her, but he would not.

No, he would not reconsider, for what was there to truly reconsider? She was strong and determined. Even if Walter beleived that Logan was attempting to persuade Annika away from her path, he himself knew better. Logan was obviously helping her along, whether for love or duty, he did not know nor did it matter.

Logan was most certainly not attempting to dissuade Annika from what she must do. Chances were he was not only assisting her as best he could, but loving her as devotedly as she loved him. The both of them must be in agony, and although Swift wished he could help the man he now called King, he could not. He was no longer in Logan's confidence, but he was in Annika's. He could help her simply by supporting her as best he could and offering her his presense as comfort and his ear for confidence.

He could not change things, but he could make the best of them. He opened the flap to the tent. He could also be the father-figure this young woman needed right now.

Annika was sobbing so hard that her eyes ached and she could not see for the copious tears streaming from them. When strong arms suddenly gathered her against a broad chest she did not resist. When she felt herself settled into the Major's lap she gratefully lay her head against his shoulder and cried.

She heard Swift's gentle voice speaking softly to her. She could not make out most of what he said, but his tone was soothing and his hands slowly rubbing her back were comforting. Her breathing had become laboured due to her wracking sobs, but his hands on her back eased her breathing a little. She felt herself as a small child again. Once, she had fallen from a tree in the garden and her father had held her in much the same way. He had allowed her to cry out her pain while he soothed her with tender caresses and assurances that everything would be all right.

Swift was treating her as her father would have, and the knowledge that he had returned to the tent and was now attempting to comfort her was so overwhelming that she sobbed even harder. What had she done to deserve this wonderful man?

She had not expected him to accept her secret easily, but she had not even dared to hope that he would actually hold her and assure her that he did not find her deviant or wicked in any way. In fact, she now heard him more clearly and he was surpassing her desperate hopes. He was telling her that he would stand by her and be there for her in any way he could.

She had not lost him; not as an ally, teacher, or friend.

"Even Princesses and Heroes need to be held once in a while," Swift said.

"You...don't mind, sir?" she gulped, her tears beginning to subside.

"My uniform is becoming soaked," he gently teased. "And I'm honoured that you chose mine to cry upon! In truth, I'm more than honoured, my dear. I'm priveledged."

She smiled and he returned it.

"Everything will be all right," he added. "You'll see."

"Now you're just spouting a platitude," she said, but her spirits were beginning to lift.

"I'm a gentleman," he said, arching a brow in amusement. "We are taught to do such."

She giggled. Everything did seem to be better. Perhaps he was right, after all.

* * *

><p>Annika was ready to leave the Fort. She had, at last, become Swift's equal in shooting. Walter had already packed their belongings and was restless pacing at the gate where they all stood.<p>

"I'll miss you so much!" Annika said tearfully, embracing the Major. She was already missing this man who had become so dear to her. Whatever would she do without him? She had come to rely upon his friendship and counsel. She felt a new sense of loss as she turned to watch Walter pacing about, obviously in a hurry to be on their way to Bowerstone.

Swift held her tightly and kissed her forehead. "And I'll miss you, my dear." He deliberately assumed a pose of authority and elegance then, and saluted her. "Now, I'll wish you both farewell, good luck, and all that." He levelled an affectionate gaze at Annika.

"We'll see each other soon, Princess."

"We will, indeed," Walter concurred. "Annika, we'll be meeting the real Resistance. And don't forget," he added, seeing how she was unhappy to be leaving Swift behind, "Swift here is part of that Resistance now, so he'll likely even be underfoot!"

She laughed in genuine relief and assurance. "All right, Walter, if you promise!"

"I promise!" he chuckled, and Swift joined in.

"As I said, we'll meet soon!" the Major assured her. "I have a feeling that things are underway and we will be hard-pressed to keep up with them. The former Heroes had to make things happen. I feel that this time the Events are now attempting to overtake us."

Annika felt that he was correct, and it was unnerving. Before, she had been on her own time table, but Swift was likely right. It now seemed that Events were beckoning her whether she felt prepared for them or not.

She had dreamt of a woman in Bowerstone who was seeking her, needing her aid, and she had promised to give it. If this was more than a dream, then she'd best hurry and find this woman. If she was part of the unfolding of her Path Annika would need to not only meet the Resistance, but find the woman who may just be the voice of the People.

With a new sense of urgency, Annika followed Walter out of the Fort. She couldn't help but look back as they walked. Swift stood tall and proud with his well-worn pipe in hand, and he smiled at her. His eyes held a sparkle that warmed her heart.

Ben Finn and the other men she had come to know waved cheerfully and she laughed and waved back. It was a good feeling to know that she had good men behind her, both as friends and allies.

* * *

><p>The young woman was aching in every joint of her body. It had been another hard day at the Shelter and Orphanage, but then, every day was hard. There was an endless stream of children who needed a family to replace the one they had lost, and an endless stream of hungry and homeless people who needed food and shelter.<p>

Linda sat on the edge of the bed in which her fiance' slept. He was a good worker, though he had some way to go before he would catch up to her in energy and stamina. He had been a noble, once, but now worked with her and loved her.

How had she come to be so fortunate as to meet such a tender and sensitive young man? He was handsome, with his dark hair and eyes, and quite educated. She herself was self-educated but from a poor background. Still, they had managed to come together and not only work together, but assuage each other's loneliness.

She removed the tie from her unkempt chestnut hair and carefully began to remove her heavy clothing as she anxiously watched him sleep.

Every night it was the same. His calm and youthful face would radiate serenity, but inevitably that would change. He would soon become agitated and his features would tense and twist. Sometimes he called out a name she could not make out. It sounded like "Anka." Other nights, he would toss and kick, cursing King Logan.

Linda never asked him who he called for in his sleep, nor did she tell him that he cursed their King. She had also loved and lost, and she also now cursed Logan. He was the reason that so many families had to give up their children for lack of money to feed and care for them. He was the reason so many could not pay the mortgages on their houses or the rent for their flats. He was the man who had fierce soldiers patrolling the streets to enforce the curfew.

Logan's men were everywhere, and not only during the night. Daytime hours found the soldiers patrolling, ever watching, and listening carefully to everything the citizens said. Those who spoke out against the King were taken away and few seen again. Others who dared to criticise his support of the Industrialist, Reaver, were jailed or publically flogged.

Linda sighed and carefully slid into bed next to Elliot. So far she had managed to keep her Shelter open and available to the orphaned and cast-off children and the destitute. But how long could she manage? Her father had died and left her the building, but it badly needed repairs and donations were scarce. Reaver had, more than once, told her that if she did not keep her opinions to herself he would "inspect" the premises "for safety purposes."

It was clear as crystal what that meant. She had once taken to speaking to the people on the street on a regular basis, encouraging them to question the latest harsh policies of the King. She had also encouraged them to petition against Reaver's deplorable working conditions. But now she faced paying a terrible price for attempting to change things in Bowerstone. Reaver was offended and now had his eye on her. If he wished, he could close down her shelter.

Linda could not allow that. The people needed her! If the King would not hear the cries of his people, perhaps the budding Hero she had begun to hear whispers of could change things.

Yes, there were whispers. Hushed and covert whispers. In the corners of the alleys and in the pubs stories were emerging of a young woman who had united the Mountain Dwellers and the Mercenaries. This same young woman had also brought a tide of much-needed income and educational possibilities to the town of Brightwall. She had cleared the area of many Hobbes and bandits, making travel far more safe.

It was rumoured that this woman, this Hero, was not far from Bowerstone. If this was true, Linda hoped she could meet this woman and enlist her aid.

With a Hero on their side, the people of the City could learn to hope. And where there was hope, there was the opportunity for change.

Elliot's breathing began to quicken and Linda reached out to stroke his chest, hoping to calm him in his sleep.

"Please, for just one night, let my beloved rest!"

She did not care if she were up all night. Linda was a woman who loved her fiance' and loved the People. Her body could, and would, she firmly decided, take the toll. She would remain strong for the sake of all those around her.

They needed her. Now, if only she could find the Hero and be of greater use yet.

Elliot calmed under her gentle touch and Linda lay back in relief, her exhaustion quickly drawing her into deep slumber.

Linda dreamt of an unknown woman who approached her, her hand extended in friendship. The woman promised to aid her in her efforts to bring relief to the People. Linda embraced the woman in gratitude and the embrace was returned. The only oddity was that the woman had a dog. Dogs were relatively rare.

Linda asked the woman if she were the Hero she had been hearing whispers of, and the woman nodded, a wistfulness and tiredness in her eyes. "It's not all it's cracked up to be," she said.

"I'll help you," Linda promised.

The woman smiled. "Thank you. We'll meet soon."

Linda slept well, and in the morning, was pleased that she remembered the dream. But it was more, she knew. It was not just a dream; it was a Promise.


	23. Chapter 23

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #23**

_My Darling Logan,_

_I know that you are probably fretting for me this very moment. Well, you needn't! All is going splendidly. Honestly, things are going so well that I'm almost afraid that dreadful Seer will pop up with some frightful news to spoil it all!_

_Firstly, I wish to tell you about myself and my recent accomplishments. I have, under the guidance of your finest Major, mastered the art of ranged weaponry. I know this will please you as you wish me to be as skilled, and thus, safe as possible. Not only am I now an excellent markswoman, but the Brigade may not be needed in Mourningwood much longer. The Hollowman threat seems to have ended. All has been quiet there for some time._

_Brightwall has proven to be lucrative as well as friendly to me, and I am sending you money for the treasury via the enclosed bank note. I own every business there and even had to hire more people to keep the stores running smoothly. There are many visitors to that charming hamlet, and I have also discovered that there are many people who are willing to pay generously for private tutoring and higher education for their children. Some children have already been sent from prestigious Millfields to board at the school in Brightwall and I have taken on some scholars to educate them._

_I hope you find the amount enclosed helpful, my darling-dear! I plan to continue to invest the money being made and, if all goes to plan, soon your little Annika may well be the wealthiest woman in Albion! And, my dearest one, all that is mine is yours. I'll send you reams upon reams of money as I continue to make it. I didn't sit through those tedious lectures about economy and finances for nothing!_

_Finally, I wish to tell you that... I am rather afraid, to be truthful! Oh, Logan, Walter is helpful and as valuable as he always has been. However, I fear that he distrusts me somewhat, as he has complained that you may be attempting to 'sway me from my Path.' But fear not, I tell him nothing of the true nature of our relationship and I assure him that you are not attempting to sway me from my Path at all. I have reason to hope, however, that there may be a chance for Walter and I to be as we were. He has been more kind and attentive to me lately, and he does not disparage you or your rule. I do think some of this is due to jealousy, as I found a friend and father figure in the Major at Mourningwood. I think our dear Walter may have been jealous and feared being replaced as my friend and mentor! Still, I fear that he believes that you may yet prove to be an adverse influence on me._

_We both know better, my dearest, but for now that is the only thing that pains me besides not being by your side. My heart aches for being apart from you! I ache every day, and especially every lonely night. Do you miss me even half as much as I miss you? Oh, but of course you do! There are times I swear that I feel your arms about me, comforting me, and your warm breath against my cheek. Sometimes I even feel a slight ghostly touch upon my lips at night that feels so much like yours! Perhaps it is our love and our bond? Ah, but what does it matter? I am eager to continue on my way so that we may be reunited as soon as possible and make those sensations truly real again._

_I will soon be in Bowerstone proper, and perhaps I will see some of the people you mentioned that I can trust with intimate correspondence. For now, you have Poopsie. As soon as you have read this letter and taken the financial note, please feed him, the poor dear, and return him to me! I find myself anxious without him by my side. Next to you, my only love, he is the closest I have to home. And that you yourself gifted me him a few years ago, he is all the more precious to me._

_Yes, you may now laugh! I have become known as 'The Hero of Brightwall, along with her dog, Poopsie'! So, yes, you were perhaps correct to attempt to persuade me to name him something more regal or heroic; but I still cannot bring myself to completely regret his name, despite the chuckles I inevitably receive when asked what I call him. After all, I received him when I was first imagining that I may someday be the brightest gem in your Court! Can you imagine a lovely princess with a dog named Bruiser, Bluto, Rufus, or some other such name? No, I see that for me, 'Poopsie' suffices quite nicely! Even though it isn't terribly heroic..._

_In Bowerstone I shall first make acquaintances of people Walter deem important, and then I shall begin buying businesses one at a time. I'll also change my appearance in your honour, my love. I'll colour my clothing, and perhaps even my hair, Our Purple. I don't think Poopsie would care to be a purple Doberman, so I'll leave him be save for a purple collar. That is a must! But he needs a bath, so a good cleaning and scrubbing will do him wonders. _

_Ugh! I also need a bath. If only Walter would allow me to return to the Lodge for a night or so! But he is right that we should press on to the City. Besides, I don't want to waste a single day! The sooner I reach the end of whatever this Journey truly is, the sooner we'll be together again. But when we reunite, my love, I hope to be scrubbed clean and more presentable than I am at the moment. I am a frightful sight, I fear! Filthy, smudged, bruised, scratched, and dressed like a man. Oh, I look simply dreadful!_

_I miss you so much my heart and soul literally ache, my Logan! But I know that there is much to be done and many places for me to go before this will all end. Rest assured, however, that I will not waste a single hour! Time is precious, my love, and you even more so._

_Lovingly and forever yours,_

_Annika_

Logan was breathing hard by the time he read the last line. To have a letter from her own hand! She must have written it during a rest on the road, as small smudges of dirt were on the parchment, but he did not care. She was safe, well, and even more prepared for what lay ahead.

He pressed the precious document to his heart and closed his tired and sunken eyes. For now he did not even care about the bank note, from Reaver Industries Bank, of course, but only that his Annika was safe and still loving him! Even seeing her dog again was a balm to his lonely heart. When he had spotted him trotting through the Palace Gardens it was all he could do to maintain his calm demeanour and beckon the canine to his private chambers.

Poopsie had come into the Gardens with a purple ribbon about his neck and an envelope strung through with sturdy twine at either end to secure it to the ribbon. Inside was her letter, a bank note for $300,000 gold, a carefully pressed purple flower, and a gold ring. Inscribed upon the inside of the ring were the words, 'My love is forever yours.'

Realising now that he was simply holding the ring instead of wearing it, Logan quickly remedied the situation. He eagerly slipped the simple band that was, he mused, much like a wedding band, onto his finger. A perfect fit. But of course it would be, would it not? She was the only person in Albion who knew him so intimately! She likely even knew the exact size of his undergarments!

He chuckled and was pleased that the sound of his own good humour calmed him. Annika was safe, she loved him, she was more skilled, and she would soon be nearby in Bowerstone. She would be meeting the very people who he himself had listed as Traitors to the Crown.

Still, he reminded himself, he must allow for all this. It was all part of the Prophecy. Besides, even if he did diligently attempt to capture the Rebel of the People, Page, he would likely fail. This woman known as Page was well hidden and likely had allies to her cause. And though he did not expect Annika to betray the woman, as that would go against what she must do, he did not expect that Annika would side with her if she attempted to persuade her to harm him.

No, likely this Page was also a pacifist. One could be militant in one's causes and ideals, but pacifist when it came to taking lives. He had, nearly a year earlier, bedded one of her 'confidantes' and the woman had told all she knew to Logan. That was how he even discovered that there was an underground resistance in the first place.

Foolish chit. She had expected that if she told Logan everything that she would earn herself a position of honour in his Court, or perhaps even as his mistress! His mouth twisted in disgust at the memory. At the time, he had found the woman charming enough to bed. There had been a ball that evening, and the blonde beauty had captured his fancy. It wasn't until they were in bed together that she had confessed to knowing a 'leader' called Page and told him how she was forming an underground resistance, collecting weapons, seeking allies, and planning to have him overthrown.

Well, Logan had had little choice in what to do from that point. He was reluctant to kill the woman, for if he did, he would be seen as a monster. Also, the fact that she was from a prestigious family was a problem. He could not risk angering the nobles. So, even though he despised traitors, he had to allow her to go free.

Had she told Page of what she had done and said? He doubted it. He had rogered her, listened to her, and turned her loose. Likely she either fled home to her family or returned to Page and held her tongue, thankful to be alive. She could not afford to risk his wrath, nor Page's and her allies. They would, perhaps, be even harsher on her than he would be if they knew there was a traitor in their own midst.

His lips curled in disgust as he recalled the woman. His eyes flitted to the portrait of Annika and fixed upon her teasing green eyes. Yes, he loved Annika, and even the memory of other women in his bed now no longer gave him any pleasure. They now felt as though they had been nothing but practice for how to please a woman physically. He was fortunate that Annika, although jealous of his past, did not hold it against him.

He would never, ever be unfaithful to her, nor she to him. He did take a rather perverse satisfaction in the knowledge that he was her first and only. Logan smiled at her coyly posed visage.

"My Annika, you can have the satisfaction of knowing that you are my first and only love. My heart beats for Albion, but as a man, it beats only for you."

He felt his heart pulsing as he spoke, and knew that each beat assured his precious Annika of health and life. As long as he lived, so too, would she. If she suffered, he would lessen it. If she died, he would take her place in death. He would sacrifice anything for her.

During their Bonding, she had asked him to share in what he was sacrificing on her behalf, and he had agreed. Well, perhaps some day he would allow that, but perhaps not. Such talks and decisions would have to wait. The more he pondered, the more he did not want his love to take on such a burden. He could only hope that she would forget her request.

For now, however, he had things to do. He had money to deposit, appointments to keep, and decisions regarding Albion to make.

Logan scratched Poopsie behind his ears and the dog softly whined in appreciation.

"All those things will wait until after I have had you bathed and brushed," he said with a low chuckle.

* * *

><p>"Where is your dog?" Walter asked as the duo continued on their way to Bowerstone.<p>

"Poopsie? I sent him to Logan with a note telling him that I am safe and well," Annika replied, slanting a look at the large man to see his reaction.

Walter's expression remained neutral. "I see," he said.

"Are you all right with me telling my brother that I fare well?"

Walter sighed and then smiled. "At one time I would not have been, but I've since reconsidered. As long as he isn't trying to sabotage you I cannot expect you to completely distance yourself from your own brother, can I?"

Annika returned his smile. "Walter, I'm glad you understand that. I've taken time to think, as well. I understand that my Path is important, but you must understand that Logan and I are close and always have been. I cannot simply abandon him and leave him to fret over me!"

"I suppose not," the gruff old man replied, "but Annika?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't hesitate to tell me if anything troubles you. I..." He paused and scratched his beard. "I know that lately we haven't been as close as we once were, and I don't...I don't want to lose you." He kept his gaze fixed on the path ahead and did not look at her.

Annika saw his expression clearly enough to know that he had been as troubled as she about their relationship lately. Nonetheless, even though his aura was showing her his sincerity and love, she also saw patches of grey. She had been learning that during conversations grey patches, when she consciously wished to see the person's aura, that is, clearly indicated unease. And where there was unease, there was reason to be cautious.

On the other hand, she supposed, everyone was cautious about something. Well, many things, to be truthful. Still, with regard to Logan, she knew she would have to continue to hold back information from Walter. She knew the man would never trust Logan again, and she knew she would always need to tread carefully.

But she adored the old man and he, her. Hopefully they could find their way back to the easy friendship they had before all this Hero business began. Perhaps, if she and Logan could gradually shift public opinion to Logan's favour once more, Walter would change his mind and be his old self again.

As Annika pondered this possibility, Walter was trying to hide his disappointment that she had sent correspondence to Logan at all. He could not blame her, true, but he was still unhappy about it. Annika was young and impressionable, and Logan was a hardened bastard with a tyrannical fist wrapped around Albion. Why would he, if he did indeed love his sister at all, allow her free reign to do as she pleased? What would stop him from using her sisterly devotion against her?

Annika was entirely too trusting and loving. Walter sighed as he remembered Amalia Sparrow. As kind and compassionate as she had been, she had not allowed her heart to rule her every move. She had achieved a healthy balance of using both her head and her heart in her judgements. Annika, however, seemed to only use her heart when it came to her brother.

Did she have what it took to be a Hero? The answer was a strong yes. But was she capable of being the Hero Albion needed to be rid of its tyrant?

Walter barely kept himself from frowning as he cast a glance at the Princess walking easily beside him. The absence of the dog was troublesome in the extreme.

He truly did not know the answer to his second question. He had hoped that by the time they reached Bowerstone he would have no doubts regarding her, but now...

Walter shook his head to try and rid himself of his troubled thoughts. When she saw the conditions in the city and met the people he wanted her to meet, surely any doubts she had about their goal would be erased.


	24. Chapter 24

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #24**

"Hmm..another gift for Miss Annika, it would seem," Jasper said to himself as he dusted the shelves in the Sanctuary. He set the feather duster aside and examined the parcel with a disapproving eye. It was obviously from King Logan, as his gifts to Annika were always wrapped impeccably and topped with red roses or purple flowers. The occassional odd gift from Sir Walter or Major Swift were always plainly and simply wrapped. Packages from the Major usually contained necessities such as the special ammunition Swift's guns required or the necessary items for weapons upkeep and occassionally soldiers boots or gloves.

From Walter, the items were almost always food and ale. Walter was privvy to the Sanctuary, and, as Jasper had taught him, invoke its name and request that the item or items be delivered. Swift...well, he obviously had become a trusted confidante of Annika's for his items to be delivered in the same manner.

The newest package from the monarch was wrapped in lavender and topped with deep purple irises and even a dyed purple rose. Jasper couldn't help but sigh in disappointment as he could easily see that the parcel was a new gown for the Princess. He recognized the size and shape of any box that contained a new ensemble.

It was most distressing to him that the King continually sent such personal items to the young Miss. The more he reflected upon the likely, and incredibly disturbing, nature of Logan and Annika's relationship, the more uneasy and unhappy Jasper became. Of course he could not be absolutely certain that his conjecture was correct, but from what he had accidentally overheard in the past through the Guild Seal when checking in on the Princess, it was highly unlikely that he was mistaken.

The King and his sister were lovers, he was almost certain of it. If they were not, they were dangerously close to being so. Of course, the butler reminded himself, incestuous relationships were not unheard of, especially in royal families. However, this particular relationship was, in his humble opinion, not only dangerous for the Princess, but extremely distasteful, and even disgusting. How could she love such a monster as her brother had become? How could she give her innocent and loving heart to such a beast? Surely she would be much happier, not to mention safer, with a young man such as Elliot.

Jasper's musings now turned to the Princess' closest friend and his mysterious disappearance. What had happened to the lad, anyway? One day he had been at the castle, and the next...

"What?" a voice suddenly bellowed from behind Jasper, "another blasted package from _him_? Balls!"

"Balls indeed!" Jasper gasped, clutching at his chest where his heart now pounded rapidly and his ears rushed with the sound. "Why cannot you announce yourself quietly, Sir?"

"Sorry, old man!" Walter said with a chuckle, patting his friend on the back. "I forget that you startle easily."

"It is not at all surprising since I am alone here most of the time," Jasper replied with a smile, patting his chest in a vain attempt to slow his racing heart. "Any sudden arrival could send me into convulsions or an appoplectic fit!"

Walter was still eyeing the package with obvious disgust. "Doesn't Annika come here often any more?"

"Well, she does, but only to use the practice room and retrieve or send her parcels. She does not spend as much time here as much as she once did. She seems singularly fixated upon completing her tasks will speed and vigilance."

Walter sighed heavily. "Does she confide in you, old man?"

Jasper was startled by the question, but suddenly realised that he should not be. His friend had clearly been out of sorts for some time and it was obvious that his unhappiness and worry lay with his young charge. His affection for Annika and hers for him had begun from the moment of her birth and until recent days had never shown any sign of wavering.

"Sir?" he asked only, not certain of how else to respond. Of course the Princess would not confide in her butler over her mentor! Why ever would Sir Walter think otherwise?

"Does she tell you when she is troubled about something?" Walter gruffly yet sadly asked, brushing his hand over the purple rose, then turning away in disgust. "She used to confide everything to me, Jasper," he went on, "but now she is so distant from me as to seem almost like a different person. She chooses her words very carefully and is no longer easy in my presence." He scratched his head and sighed once more. "I suppose it is my own damned fault because I made it clear that I don't approve of her seeing and corresponding with Logan, but I never knew she'd react so sensitively about it!"

Jasper nodded in sympathy. His friend was deeply unhappy and he longed to share his own distress, but knew that he could not. His own love and loyalty also resided with the young Princess, not to mention that his position was one that required discretion. To confide in Walter would be to betray the confidences which he was morally and ethically obliged to keep.

"I can tell you, Sir, that she does not confide in me," Jasper said slowly. "That is not to say that I do not have concerns for her; of course I do."

Walter seemed to understand Jasper's position. "Can you tell me whether or not she sees or hears from Logan regularly?"

Jasper retrieved the feather duster and stroked the handle as he pondered his response. "I believe that I can say with relative certainty that she does, Sir Walter."

"Does she apply to him, or does he apply to her?"

"Both, sir."

Walter snorted. "Damnation! It is as I feared. That bastard is taking advantage of her! Or if he isn't, he soon will! Why won't she listen to me?" He met Jasper's eyes squarely. "She assures me that Logan isn't trying to influence her in any way, but how in the Hells can I believe that? She adores him so much that she can't see what he's capable of! She still thinks he's the big brother she can trust in all things and she simply can't see that he has changed! He's not the man she thinks he is!"

Jasper swallowed uncomfortably. His heart had resumed its normal rhythm, but now his emotional anxiety rose. "Perhaps you are correct, Sir," he resumed cautiously, "but I can also say that I have no reason to believe that the King means her harm. Besides, I... I do not know that she views him as..." Jasper paused, gripping the handle of the duster with both hands so hard he was in danger of snapping it. He longed to confide in Walter, but he could not! "I... I don't think the two of them necessarily view each other in a brotherly and sisterly sort of way," he concluded, carefully enunciating each word and hoping that Walter would see more in them than he could overtly express.

"So, he behaves as if they are equals, eh?" Walter incorrectly surmised from Jasper's desperate attempt at a hint. "Well, that is a tactic Logan would certainly use to throw her off her guard. Persuade her that he sees her as his equal in power and influence, gain her complete trust, and then ruin her any way he can when her opportunity arises to rid Albion of his tyranny!"

Jasper began to perspire. Seeing Walter so agitated and himself being so anxious about the likely nature of the Princess's relationship with her brother was nearly cracking his professional demeanour, not to mention his increasingly fragile emotional control. He tossed the duster aside and drew his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He dabbed his forehead.

"Sir, perhaps you can keep Miss Annika busy and away from the Lodge? That way she will not only focus on her tasks, but her...ah, _communications, _with the King would be greatly decreased."

"Excellent idea, old man!" Walter exclaimed, looking more hopeful than Jasper had expected him to. "I think that I can manage that." He fiddled with the hilt of his sword, a habit that he had taken to ever since their 'adventure' had begun, and nodded at the package. "I don't see that I can throw the sodding thing away, though I'd like nothing better!" he snorted. "But I think I can keep her from returning to the Lodge too often."

Walter smiled now. "She's in such a hurry to complete things, is she? Well, I'll do everything I can to keep her busy and hurrying things along! She wants to rush headlong into being The Hero of Albion? I'll help her. She wants to reunite with Logan? Well, I'll help her do that, too, though by that time she'll hopefully see him for the monster he is."

Jasper did not know whether he wanted that outcome or not, as he did not want to ever see Miss Annika in pain, but he was definitely in favour of completing this entire endeavour.

* * *

><p>"It's like an entirely different world down here!" Annika exclaimed in surprise and delight as she, Walter, and Poopsie entered into the subterranean underbelly of Bowerstone Industrial. "I can't believe there's so much, well...space!"<p>

"Yes," Walter agreed, "it's quite a place, isn't it? Be wary, though; the people we are about to meet are good and decent, but they are suspicious of newcomers."

They proceded cautiously from one tunnel to another, and finally reached a large, spacious room. Walter's warning turned out to be needless when a figure emerged from an adjoining tunnel across from them and waved.

"Oi! We've been expecting you two!" Ben Finn said cheerfully.

"Ben?" Annika cried out in surprise, "I didn't know you'd be here!"

"Ben, it's good to see you again!" Walter said and the two men shook hands. "Say, is..."

"Princess Annika, what a pleasant surprise!" another voice chimed in and Annika turned to see Major Swift following Ben.

She couldn't help herself; she rushed to the Major and hugged him. "It's wonderful to see you here!" As he chuckled and returned her embrace Annika clung to him even tighter as Walter and Finn chatted amiably.

"Is something the matter?" Swift whispered into her hair. "Not that I mind a lovely young lady hugging me, but you seem...desperate."

"I am," she whispered, and drew back just enough to peer up into his careworn face. His genuine smile and gentle eyes encouraged her to confide her concerns. "Everything is just happening so fast! I mean, I want it to, but all of a sudden I'm..." She searched for the right word, but failed.

Swift rushed to her verbal rescue. "Overwhelmed?"

"Yes, that's it," she replied, fighting back the tears that suddenly threatened to overtake her. "I'm overwhelmed. I've worked so hard to reach this point, but now that I'm here, I suddenly don't know if I'm ready."

"Of course you are," he said gently. When Annika released him he held her hands in his and clasped them warmly in silent reassurance. "I've seen you in action, I've spoken with you at length, and I've come to know you. Besides my own confidence and faith in you, Walter has seen fit to bring you here. That surely means you are ready, Princess Annika."

"Well, I suppose so," she conceded, letting out a relieved sigh. "But tell me; why are you and Ben here? Walter didn't say anything to me about that!"

"Because he didn't know," Swift replied with a smile. "I have withdrawn the Swift Brigade from Mourningwood Fort and sent word to the King. I have discretion over the matter and I am perfectly satisfied that the Hollowman threat is no more. I did, however, leave the mortar in functioning order along with ammunition at the Fort in the event that they happen to return."

"So what are you doing now? Surely you aren't supposed to be here!" Annika said. The words were scarcely spoken when a sudden surge of anxiety rushed over her body. "This...this is a traitors' place, after all."

Swift squeezed her hands once more. "My dear, I am as much a part of this Resistance as you are. I stand by you. Where you need me, I shall be. Right now, this is where I need to be for you."

"But if Logan finds out, he'll be so angry!"

"Hush, Princess!" Swift said softly and raised a hand to cup her chin in a fatherly manner that Annika had not experienced in years. "I'm perfectly safe! Besides, I needed to reassure you that we are fine and ready to follow you at a moment's notice."

Despite his confident words, a dread that Annika could not identify began to envelope her. A sensation akin to icy hands slid from her ankles to her face in a maliciously caressing manner until she began to shiver violently. The feeling was so palpable and malevolent that Annika squeezed her eyes closed in an effort to dispel it. A flash of something colourful momentarily invaded her mind's eye; a swatch of red and white.

Swift noticed her change in mood and her sudden pallor. "Princess? Are you all right?"

Poopsie nudged her thigh and whined.

"Major," she choked out, "I have the most dreadful feeling! It's cold and awful and..." She stopped, realising that she was sounding like a frightened child instead of a Hero. And why did those colours seem meaningful?

"And?" he gently prompted, peering into her face with concern.

She swallowed. "I'm afraid for you," she whispered, her voice cracking.

He chuckled softly, but his expression slightly darkened, indicating that he was, perhaps, taking her warning to heart. "My dear, you needn't fear for me! I'm flattered and delighted that you are so concerned, but truly, I'm hale and hearty."

As he and Annika peered into each others eyes, Walter and Ben strode over to them.

"It's time for you to meet the leader of the Resistance," Walter said, his eyes brightening in anticipation.

"Yep, and she's a feisty one, she is!" Ben said and winked.

Walter saw how quickly Swift and Annika drew apart. "What is it?" he asked. "I can tell something is wrong."

"I fear that the Princess is worrying herself over my safety needlessly," the Major replied.

"Probably not so needlessly," Ben interjected, his voice now serious. "She's probably right. If the King finds out that you were here he'd have your head. You'd best stay right here."

"I can't possibly do that," the Major retorted. "I have an obligation to report to the King. He's expecting me and I can't very well not show."

"What will happen after you report to Logan?" Annika asked. "With you, I mean? Will you remain at the palace?"

"I don't know," Swift replied, taking a puff from his pipe. "I suppose I'll be there for awhile. All of Logan's other men; those dreadful new ones, are being assigned all over the country. I'm going to do my utmost to discover their movements and the reasons behind them." He paused and looked straight into Annika's worried eyes. "Don't fret, Princess. Once I get the necessary information we can move forward. Until then we'll be at a standstill, I'm afraid."

Annika swayed on her feet and Walter steadied her. The icy dread refused to leave her, as did her trembling.

"Gods, are you ill?" Walter asked her anxiously.

Poopsie whined again and licked her hand.

"No, not really. I'm having a very bad feeling, though," she said, hating how her voice wobbled. "The sensation is so heavy that it feels like a cloak about me. It's perfectly horrid, and I think the Major shouldn't go!"

"I promise that I'll be all right," Swift said, softening his tone. "I'll return or send word as soon as I can, Princess. I promise."

Annika swallowed hard and leaned into Walter's welcoming arms.

They felt good.

But as Swift bowed deeply to her and walked away, Annika sank to her knees, leaned against her faithful and worried dog for balance, and retched.

* * *

><p><em>If you are desirious of ever seeing your fiance' again, (although I do not see why you should be, as he is surprisingly unlearned for one of his affluent background) you will deliver the above-stated amount to my man at the above-stated day and time. Fail to render unto me that which is mine (the above-stated amount of coin) and I will personally end the life of the increasingly annoying young man you regard so highly.<em>

_With all my considerable sincerity despite my current inconvenience due to the presence of your young man,_

_Nigel Ferret _

Linda was so angry and that she couldn't even scream or shout. She couldn't even cry. Her heart literally felt as if a cruel fist was clenching it and even then she was denied the dubious relief of tears.

For too long Nigel Ferret had harrassed the local homeless and unfortunate children. For too long Linda had had to fight every day to keep her shelter and orphanage open and available to the poorest of the poor in Bowerstone Industrial. And now, when she finally had found love, and thus relief, in the form of Elliot, her partner in both her work and in life, it had been cruelly snatched away from her by that despicable local king of thieves, Nigel Ferret. Her endurance was at its end.

There was no possible way that she could come up with the money Ferret demanded, nor could she rescue Elliot from him. She was not a fighter, nor was she wealthy.

The only way to get her Elliot back was if she closed the shelter and sold the building to the industrial tycoon, Reaver. That was the only way she could raise enough coin to satisfy Ferret's demands. That would be the only way to rescue Elliot.

Unless the Hero she had dreamt of appeared soon.

"She promised," Linda whispered to herself as she hurled the note into the fire. "She promised and she will be here; I'm sure of it."

The exhausted woman sank into bed and blew out the candle on the bedside table. Yes, she would sleep tonight. The Hero would come and she would come in time to save the love of her life.

Linda drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Annika, Walter, Ben, and Poopsie walked into a yet more secretive room in Bowerstone's sewers and saw a lovely dark-skinned woman in fighting leathers perusing papers atop a large circular table.<p>

"Annika, this is..." Walter began, but Annika raised her hand to silence him.

The feeling of dread suddenly left her and one of need and a promise to fulfill replaced it. Annika recalled the woman she had dreamt of and knew that now was the time to help her. The woman was not only someone she needed to aid, but would also be a key player in the events about to unfold; she knew it.

"I'm sorry," she said, snapping her attention back to the matter at hand, "Walter, please go on. I'm ready now." She reached down and scratched Poopsie behind his ears.

"I'm more than ready," she added.


	25. Chapter 25

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #25**

"Page, this is..."

"I know who she is, Walter," the woman said, eyeing Annika critically, "and I thought that you of all people would know better than to bring the Princess here!"

"She's not just a Princess, Page," Walter added, "she's a Hero, just like her mother."

Annika quickly surveyed the large room as the Rebel Leader and Walter spoke. It was, to her surprise, well furnished and stocked with supplies. There were rows upon rows of cots, dressers, chests and wardrobes, obviously a space for each member of the Resistance. There were also numerous casks of ale, bottles of water, and boxes of foodstuffs. This woman obviously had many followers already who were prepared to fight for her. That impressed Annika; however, the haughty manner in which she was currently speaking did not.

"Really? That's...well... It doesn't change a thing!" the woman was saying. She was waving her hands in a dismissive manner and pacing restlessly around the table. "The People need someone to look up to, Walter, and unless the Princess can prove herself to them, being a Hero doesn't change anything! Her brother, Walter; her _brother _is the tyrant we must overthrow and you think his own sister will do that?"

"She's proven herself to my satisfaction and to Major Swift's, not to mention the Dwellers and the entire village of Brightwall!" Walter staunchly argued. "Just because Logan is the way he is doesn't mean you should assume that Annika is the same!"

"Yeah, and not only Walter and Swift have faith in her, but so do I!" Ben Finn interjected with such conviction that Annika was pleased by his unexpected burst of support for her.

"Ben Finn, I've never trusted a soldier in my entire life, and I'm not about to start now!" Page snapped, slamming her fist onto the table to punctuate her remark.

Annika could remain silent no longer.

"Listen to me," she began softly, trying to reign in her flaring temper at the woman's disparaging of soldiers, "I can respect that you care about the People, and I can respect that you have followers who believe in you. But what I can not and will not respect is your painting every soldier in Albion with your bitter bile-dipped brush!"

Page opened her mouth to respond but the Princess continued. "Major Swift, Walter, and Finn are among the finest men I have ever known, and all of them can be trusted implicitely. You said you have never trusted a soldier since you were born. How can you, as a baby, form such a broad judgement?" She clenched her fists in silent anger, hoping that her temper wouldn't get the best of her, yet also needing to inform this woman just where she stood on her sweeping judgements regarding not only Logan but all soldiers.

"You claim to be a leader and you obviously carry yourself as if your word and judgement should be trusted, but how can I or anyone who is willing to lay down their life for you trust someone who obviously has her head half up her arse? You cannot dismiss fine men like the soldiers I just mentioned!"

Annika stepped back and looked directly into Walter's widened eyes. "I've come to a decision. Walter, if this woman is this unreasonable all the time, I don't want her as an ally. We'll do without her. Such hate and judgementalism is harmful and I don't trust _it._ Or her."

Annika turned her back on them all and stared back into the tunnel exiting the room. She was ragingly angry and wanted nothing more than to leave and seek out the woman she had dreamt of. That woman needed her and that woman would be of help to her in return. She had better things to do than to attempt to make allies of volatile people like Page.

"Look," Page said, startling Annika by moving to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. Annika turned and looked at the woman's softened face.

"Princess, I...apologize. You are right. I am zealous when it comes to my Cause, but when I said that I never trusted a soldier...you are correct. That's not true and that was wrong of me. However, I do have to say in my defense that for years now soldiers have been a source of oppression and fear to me and many like me. They have not always been..." Page stopped and sighed.

"As they should be. Our protectors instead of our oppressors." She felt mollified and covered Page's hand with her own. She still was not easy in her mind regarding this woman, but she felt considerably better about her. After all, she herself knew what it was like to harbour such passion.

Walter and Ben were silent during the womens' exchange.

"Page, I'll do what I can to help Bowerstone, but I'll need you to realise that there will be soldiers joining us when the time comes for Revolution. We cannot win without them."

"And you will really move against your own brother?" Page pressed her, concern lacing her tone.

"Yes," Annika said softly. "I must, mustn't I? It is my Path. It is my Destiny. Things must change and I'll do whatever is necessary to restore the Peoples' faith in the Crown."

"Page," Walter said, moving to them and putting a hand on the rebel's shoulder, "things seem to be going better now between the two of you, but you must know up front that Annika has no intention of executing Logan once she is Queen."

Page sighed, but this time it was in obvious relief. She moved back to the table, folded her arms across her chest, and looked appraisingly at each person in turn. "I don't expect that of her, Walter. I expect us to be better than he is. Logan is a tyrant. He is the reason we hide and the reason we fight! But I don't want us to sink to his level."

Annika clenched her teeth so hard she heard them grind. She forced herself to smile sweetly as she turned to Walter.

"How nice of her. The Queen Bee doesn't expect us to _sink to his level._" She didn't even attempt to hide her bitterness and offense.

Walter cringed.

"You cannot deny it that he is a tyrant, surely?" Page challenged the Princess, her dark eyes boring into Annika's. "If you don't think he is, please justify that opinion to me!"

"I'll deny nothing," Annika said as calmly as she could manage, "but I will say that I hope you will remember that no matter what I will or must do, that he is my brother and I love him. Do not expect me to hate him simply because you and others do."

"But will you be the Hero we need to overthrow him despite how you feel?" the rebel leader continued to press. Page's face reflected hope now, but she obviously still felt the need for the Princess's reassurance.

"I will."

Apparently Annika's resolve was enough to convince Page, for she smiled and looked down at her map of Albion and the assorted papers strewn across the table.

"Good. Then, let's begin planning," she said.

Ben Finn moved behind her and sniffed her hair. "Page, you smell as nice as ever!"

"Finn, I live in the Sewers! I do not smell nice at all!" She rolled her eyes.

"I beg to differ, my lady." Ben grinned, but drew back from her to stand at her side.

Annika couldn't help but smile as the two bantered. She and Walter joined them at the table. They did indeed have planning to do.

* * *

><p>A droplet of sweat rolled down Elliot's back despite the clamminess of his skin. He was blindfolded and tied firmly to a chair. He guessed he was either in or near the Sewers, due to the smell of his surroundings, but he couldn't be certain.<p>

He heard the muffled voices of men some distance away and the nasal tone of Nigel Ferret cut through them easily. Elliot knew the demands Ferret had made of Linda, and he was in despair. There was no posssibility that Linda could raise such a sum! Besides, why did Ferret care about him and Linda and the Shelter? Did he want the building for himself? Was Reaver involved?

If Linda sold the building she could perhaps raise the money, but though Elliot desperately wanted to live, he did not want Linda giving up on the work she did for the poor of Bowerstone. On the other hand, if he were in her place, he would not hesitate to sell the building. He would not allow his fiancee to die.

He sighed and once again tested the bonds around his wrists and ankles. Of course they held as firmly as ever. He could barely even squirm. He dreaded when he developed an itch because he couldn't even move enough to scratch. And he was hungry and thirsty.

How long had he been wherever he was? A day? Two? However long it was, it felt interminable.

Almost as interminable as the span of time since he had last seen Annika. Oh, how he missed her! Despite his love for Linda, who was a good and kind woman, he still missed the lovely Princess he had grown up with at the castle and had begun to court. It would only have been a matter of time before she would have consented to marry him, he was certain. But Logan had put a stop to it. He had released him and the other prisoners, true, but he had also seized the house and money he had. The bastard had made certain that he would have had nothing to offer Annika if she had fled with him.

Of course he had not known that until he had attempted to return to the home his parents had left him upon their deaths. Once there some of Logan's soldiers had blocked his entrance and had a royal order of seizure of the property. He was promptly told to flee or die.

So he fled and had found Linda and her Shelter. But at first he could not dispel the images of his last meeting with Annika. They tormented him during the day and invaded his dreams at night. Her visage, especially of her tear-stained face, left him feeling like an utter cad.

Every time Elliot reflected on the last time he had seen her deep regret tugged at his heart. He had accused her of being deviant! He had scolded her for loving her brother. He sighed and hung his head as another tickling droplet of sweat trailed down his spine. Why hadn't he tried to understand her position? Of course she loved Logan! He was her brother and the only family she had, tyrant or no. He was all she had left. Why couldn't he have seen that?

All he had seen was a young woman defending a monster, not a sister who was understandably tornbetween her love for her sibling and his acts, both tyrannical and benevolent. And he had not only upbraided her, he had told her to never speak to him again! He had left her, disgusted, and not even stopped when she had begun to shed tears of anguish.

Countless nights of guilt and sorrow had consumed him. His dreams haunted him, taunting him with images of a beautiful and spirited Annika agreeing to marry him and being the love of his life.

But that isn't what had happened. What had happened was that he had fled the castle after Logan angrily dismissed him and he had ultimately ended up at the Shelter, having no other place to go. Linda, the feisty young woman who had spent most of her life as an orphan, took him in and provided him with food and a bed.

Linda was not as lovely, educated, and accomplished as Annika, but the brunette was reasonably self-educated and had a rustic and homey sort of beauty. And then there was her strength and determination. Linda was never afraid of getting her hands dirty, both figuratively and literally. She cooked, cleaned, washed, fed, tended the sick, and, when she could, found homes for the homeless children. Sometimes she was able to secure employment for the jobless.

Linda had connections all over Bowerstone Industrial and people were coming to know and respect her. And so, he had realised after some weeks, was he. As time passed he began to work with Linda and assist when he could. When she saw that he was sincere she began to teach him things he had never had to do. It was embarrassing to admit that he didn't even know how to cook a simple dinner, for example. Having been a ward of the Crown he had been taken care of his entire life.

He was no longer able to rely on others to care for him as before. Linda taught him how to fend for himself and also to aid others. As time went on, his admiration for her transformed into genuine fondness. As he despaired of ever seeing Annika again and marrying her, and thus into the Royal Family, he decided that Linda was not a bad second choice, given that he had no other prospects.

Linda was good, kind, and industrious. He did truly care for her. Even if she wasn't the sort of woman he had always fantasized about, she would make him a fine wife. He didn't fool himself into thinking he could ever return to the castle, so he would make the best of his new circumstances, and Linda was the best thing that had happened to him since the cessation of his old life.

Well, until current circumstances, that is. He had never anticipated being kidnapped and held for ransom by a cunning and annoyingly long-winded thief! He had, only days ago, asked Linda to marry him! She had been overjoyed and professed that he was the love she had always dreamed of. He didn't feel the same for her, but he told her he did. He was fond enough of her and respected her. And she was lovely enough to entice him.

Besides, Annika was lost to him forever. Why should he not settle down and be as happy as he could with Linda? He had no better opportunity elsewhere.

However, if she did not give Ferret the money he demanded, he wouldn't have any opportunities whatever. Wearing a wooden shirt six feet under was not something he relished the thought of, but he didn't know what to reaslistically hope for.

Still, hope was all he had.


	26. Chapter 26

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #26**

_Now, for some basically pointless smut because I've been missing the Logan/Annika lovin'! Well, that and I'm just plain in the mood for some PWP._

* * *

><p>Buying property and browsing about Bowerstone proper had been cut short when Annika had suddenly found herself approached in the middle of her hair colouring by one of Logan's soldiers. The hairstylist, a paunchy young man with an aristocratic pink wig, froze in obvious fear and Annika eyed the reflection of the dour-faced guard in the mirror.<p>

"Yes?" she asked impatiently, "I'm in the middle of something here! As far as I know, I haven't broken any law!"

"No, Miss, but I have orders to _escort _you to someone of the highest importance. He desires a meeting with you as soon as possible."

The guard then surprised the young Hero by discretely pressing a small purple flower into her hand. Annika swallowed hard and tears of happiness and anticipation pricked her eyes. It was from Logan! He knew of her arrival and wanted to see her!

"Perry, please hurry and finish dying my hair! I have a very important appointment!" she instructed the former owner and now manager of the beauty shop.

* * *

><p>Once in the palace Annika had been taken in hand by her former maid and lead to her previous chambers. Janine, her beloved personal maid, was so happy to see her mistress again that she couldn't help but hug and kiss the Princess.<p>

"Oh, your majesty, it is so good to see you again!" the pretty blonde bubbled excitedly, while beginning to fuss over Annika's clothing and hair critically. She eyed the dirt of the road that stained her charge's face and clothing and tsked in disapproval.

Annika laughed and allowed Janine to help her undress and slide into the pleasingly hot bath that awaited. Janine always knew just the right temperature for the water and the proper amount of rose oil to add.

"I'm happy to see you again, too, Janine!" Annika said with a happy sigh. "I've just returned to town and found out that Logan wants to see me!"

"Oh, yes, Miss, he's quite eager, from what Bertie tells me! He says the King hasn't been so agitated and impatient, in a good way, for weeks!"

They both laughed. Bertie, Logan's valet, was staunchly loyal to Logan, and he was also good-natured, pleasant, handsome, and obviously in love with Janine. There was probably nothing that a valet could learn that he did not share with Janine. Annika had more than half-expected the two to have married by now.

"Janine," she suddenly said, remember how wealthy she was becoming, "do you and Bertie plan to marry? I hope this isn't too forward of me to ask!"

"Oh, no, Princess!" Janine responded, and began to sponge the young woman's neck and shoulders gently. "You know that I have no secrets from you! To tell the truth," Janine said, bending to whisper conspiratorily into Annika's ear even though they were quite alone, "Bertie said that he'll propose the moment he can afford a nice house for us! We think that by the end of the year we'll be able to marry!"

Annika straightened. "Is that all that's stopping you from marry you now? Why did you never say so, Janine? Consider it done! I have money aplenty. Just name the house and it's yours, along with a generous allowance. Consider it my dowry for you and Bertie."

Janine was so shocked that her arm skidded along the edge of the slippery tub and she slipped partially in, soaking her arm and chest.

"Princess," she gasped, "that...that is too generous of you! I could never..."

"Nonsense. It is my gift to you. Now, the two of you pick out a fine house and it's yours. You've been not only a good maid to me, Janine, but a good friend. I want you two to be happy and have the life you deserve together!"

Janine splashed her way free from the tub and laughed in embarrassment. "I...I don't know how to ever thank you, Princess!" She was blushing madly and Annika smiled. "I'll tell Bertie as soon as I see him! Oh, Princess, you've made me the happiest of women! Please allow us the honour to name our first child after you or the King! Oh, wait, we'll have numerous children, so both of you shall be honoured!"

"Accepted," Annika said with a smile.

"Then," her maid said with a deep blush of pleasure, "at least allow me to clean you, wash your hair, style it, and make you as lovely as possible for your meeting with the King!"

"I'm counting on it," Annika replied. "I want to look my best, Janine!"

"You'll utterly amaze him, Princess," Janine said. "Though I must admit that I've never styled purple hair before..."

The royal maid then turned her attention to the patient dog in the corner of the room. "I suppose he'll need a bath as well?" She barely kept from giggling as Annika doubled over in laughter.

"He recently had one, but he'd love another, Janine! Oh, and he doesn't care for rose oil, remember? Better make his water gilded amber."

Poopsie lifted his head and whined in approval. He knew those words and always enjoyed his baths.

* * *

><p>Annika, however, didn't bring Poopsie with her when she traversed the secret passage to Logan's chambers. Janine did not know that she and Logan were lovers, and so, when her maid had left her, she had changed out of the chosen ensemble and donned a risque negligee.<p>

Her memory flashed back to when she and Logan had been quite young and he had asked her to side with him in asking their parents to construct a secret tunnel between their chambers so that they could meet.

Of course they had insisted to the King and Queen that they would not use such a secretive way of meeting as a way to get together to cause mischief, which had, of course, been a fib, but still, their doting mother had laughed and persuaded her husband to add his consent to hers for the construction of the passage. Annika and Logan had indeed caused their fair amount of childhood mischief; mislaying the kitchen utensils to bother the cooks, hiding the gardening tools, getting in to the housed nobles face paints and other sundries, and overall simply having the fun that children normally have.

Logan had been older than she, of course, but he had not outgrown his love for pranks. Even in later years when he perhaps had, he never tired of the enjoyment his younger sister obtained from them and he never complained when she wanted to play pranks that he was rapidly outgrowing. As a young and budding Prince who was busy developing and perfecting the skills he needed to one day become King, he had made certain to never be too busy for Annika.

When the Princess carefully pressed the panel and slid it to one side, exposing the opening into Logan's private sitting room, she was surprised to see him sitting in his favourite reading chair, his back to her. His head was bowed and his entire frame was tense. He mumbled agitatedly to himself and she could feel as well as see the tension and anxiety radiating from him.

His aura was white and grey and showed her these things, but there was also strange yellow that she could only assume signified fear. Sympathy washed over her and she knew that he truly needed her, and not just for a visit.

Annika blinked to shove away the visible colours of his aura. She did not want to see them now. She just wanted to see her Logan; especially since he was obviously in a state of high anxiety.

"Logan?" she whispered, hoping to not startle him.

"Annika!" He leapt up from the chair in a blur of purple and gold and rushed to her. She barely caught a glimpse of his relieved visage as he pulled her into a nearly crushing embrace. He had forgotten to remove his chest plate and it pressed painfully against Annika's negligee-clad breasts and threatened to bruise her ribs.

"Forgive me," he murmured, feverously kissing her neck and cheeks. He did not stop kissing her as he fumbled with the clasps of the chest plate and allowed it to drop at their feet.

Annika returned his kisses with equal passion but was taken aback by Logan's desperation. He was behaving as a starved man, or one on the brink of mental breakdown. Why was he in such a state? Had something happened?

For now, however, she allowed him to pull her into his bedroom and he kicked the door of the sitting room closed.

"Annika, my Annika," he groaned, pressing her against the wall with the full length of his body and capturing her lips with his own, "you're forever mine, aren't you?"

She could not reply, as his kisses were too quick and hot for her to respond, much less think coherently.

"You mustn't hate me, ever! Do you hear me? You mustn't! No matter what happens and what I may have to do, please don't ever hate me!"

An agonized sough escaped his throat when she pushed him back so she could speak. "Logan, please, tell me what troubles you so! Of course I'm yours, and of course I love you forever! Why are you like this? What are you afraid of? Tell me!"

His ashen and almost death-like pallor and sunken eyes told her more plainly than words that his agony and fear was real, but what she could not know was the reason. That was something he would have to tell her.

"I cannot! I am not even certain myself, Annika! But I know that very soon you will see what I must sometimes do to keep control over Albion; to keep things in order. You will experience something very ugly by my own hands and..." He gasped and sweat beaded his creased forehead. "You must forgive me! You must try and understand! Can you accept the good in me as well as the evil? Can you?"

"Yes, yes!" she cried out, desperate to appease him.

"But you don't even know what may have to be done, and you will suffer greatly as a result," he panted, and pressed her even harder against the wall. "You'll hate me, perhaps, or fear me! But remember that you are the one creature in all the world that can bring me to my knees. Never forget that. You are my one and only weakness."

Again he was not telling her what he knew, or if he did not know, at the very least, suspect! Annika was frustrated and annoyed, but she could not press him further now. Logan was clearly terrified and needed her love and reassurance, not her pressing.

Suddenly his strong hand slid between her legs and pressed firmly into her, causing her to gasp. He captured that gasp with his mouth and drank it in as Annika felt herself sag with the bolt of desire that shot through her loins and weakened her knees.

His fingers pressed and rubbed the thin layer of gossamer that was the only thing separating his flesh from hers.

"Don't ever let another touch you like this!" he groaned, sliding his fingers along the now wet and slick cloth. "Never let another touch you!"

"I won't," she gasped, grasping his shoulders for support. Her entire body was threatening to go slack with desire. She tried to open her legs a bit further, but their position wouldn't allow it. All she could do now was reach behind him and grasp his buttocks and squeeze. When he moaned against her mouth she pulled his pelvis closer to her, trapping his hand between her legs more effectively than before.

"Gods, Logan!" Annika panted, perspiration beginning to coat her own body, "I cannot bear this!"

"You can and you will," he growled hoarsely. "You're mine! _Mine!_"

She bucked helplessly against his teasing hand and her lips parted, allowing his probing tongue to enter her mouth and snake around hers.

"Say it," he hissed, flicking her tongue with his between words, "say you're mine! Say you're mine to do with as I please!"

So, he needed not only her love and complete acceptance, but also her surrender. He was desperate for some measure of control; that was the only thing that could pacify him. Of course, she knew, as his devilish fingers were coming ever closer to coaxing an orgasm from her trembling body, she would not be difficult to control! It wasn't as if she was fighting him. But did he, in actuality, _need_ a fight? Or at the very least, a token resistance on her part?

Annika decided to test these waters. "I'm yours, Logan, but that doesn't mean you can control me and do anything you please!"

She was so close to orgasm, so close! But she resisted and wriggled free of him. "If you want me," she panted, "you'll be a proper gentleman and take me to bed!"

Her heart was thundering against her ribs and her pulse ringing in her ears, but she stepped yet further back. "What say you to that?" she taunted him, satisfied to see his eyes narrow at her challenge.

Logan growled and lunged for her, surprising her as he bore her to the floor. He straddled her body, ripped the negligee apart with both hands, and tossed it aside. "I say you'll be naked any time I want you to be and you'll bend to my will!"

He pinned her arms to the rug while trailing hot and sucking kisses along her belly before pressing his mouth firmly to her throbbing centre. A long and slow lick along her slit made her gasping. A press of the tip of his tongue to her clit caused her to moan and toss her head. He no longer needed to pin her down and released her arms. He slid two long and dextrous fingers into her dripping passage and crooked and manipulated them, reducing her to a quivering mass of writhing and wanton femininity.

She had never reached a climax so rapidly before, nor had one drawn out for so long. Logan kept her at her peak, expertly swirling his tongue around her clit and flexing his fingers inside her, finding and teasing her most sensitive spots, determined to keep her pleasure at its highest. By the time her body could no longer sustain the orgasm her thighs were clamped around his head and she was quivering so violently that she could barely breathe.

Breath soon became a necessity, however, as he quickly withdrew from her and shed his clothing. He knelt over her and seized her head, pressing the head of his swollen cock to her lips.

"Take me!" he commanded, his fingers twiching involuntarily in her touseled hair. "Take all of me!"

It was an awkward angle, her lying on her back and him straddling her torso, but she had no choice but to take his member into her mouth. She had to concentrate hard to not gag as he seemed quite unable to control his impulses. He thrust into her mouth as vigourously as if he were inside her body and she grasped his buttocks for support and to ease her aching neck.

Still, this _control, _this _command, _he was taking of her excited her beyond measure. Annika craved this. This Logan was one part of the man she needed and a part that commanded her respect and obedience. The gentle Logan, the needful Logan, yes; but this one, the one who was simply taking what he wanted and needed from her, was irresistable.

She relaxed her throat as much as possible and pulled on his taut buttocks, urging him to thrust even harder. She didn't care if she gagged at times, and he didn't care that sometimes her teeth accidentally scraped his cock.

"Gods, _yes, _my Annika," he groaned through gritted teeth. "Y_es!"_

When his hot viscous seed spurted from his member he grasped her head harder. "Swallow!" he commanded her, albeit unnecessarily, as she eagerly complied.

He didn't release her head until she had laved him completely clean. How he was maintaining his hardness she did not know.

"Now, on the bed with you," he said, voice low but still authoritative, "and get on your hands and knees."

Annika didn't know how she felt, precisely, and analysing would have to wait. She did know that she was more erotically charged than she had ever been in her life and obeying Logan without question had never been so appealing.

She got on her hands and knees, but when Logan positioned himself behind her he changed his mind and seized her neck and pushed her head down, forcing her onto her elbows.

"Like this," he said, and then plunged into her without warning.

The deepth of the penetration was one she had, of course, never experienced, and she had only ever had Logan love her completely once before. It hurt, and she cried out without meaning to, but didn't move for fear of either angering or causing Logan guilt.

He grasped her hips and slowed his thrusts considerably. Logan was obviously gaguing her reactions now and attentive to every sound and movement from her. He plainly wanted to pleasure her, not cause her pain.

After a few minutes her body relaxed and stretched to accomadate him, and the sensations became quite pleasing. Annika sighed and pressed her forehead into the mattress. She felt wonderful now and found that she very much liked this position. The angle of penetration was different and the sensations very acute. She bowed her back and thrust her backside towards him higher and more invitingly.

"More, Logan, please! Harder!"

She gasped as he grunted and slammed into her now, his sac slapping against her rear with every thrust. He was as deep as he could go and she loved every moment, even the fleeting moments of occassional discomfort.

She heard him curse as he came before her, but just as she was about to tell him that he needn't fret, he shoved her onto her belly, still thrusting inside her. He slid his right hand beneath her belly and between her legs and rubbed her slick womanhood, which was incredibly sensitive to his every touch. He roughly ground his fingers into her swollen clit and Annika came, and came hard. She cried out in bliss and quivered wildly and involuntarily for some moments.

Logan collapsed atop her, effectively pinning her to the mattress. He was breathing hard against her neck and she gasped for air. He rolled onto his back and pulled her against him.

"My Annika," he whispered raggedly between gasps of breath. "I love you more than you can ever know. You've no idea how very much yours I truly am."

"I think that I do," she said, caressing his cheek. He nuzzled against her palm and closed his eyes, which were shimmering with unshed tears.

"I'm yours, Logan," she assured him, "and I will always be. I love you completely and utterly. No matter what happens, I'll love you."

He did not open his eyes, but she saw a single tear slip beneath one closed fatigue-darkened lid. The sight tugged at her heart and for a moment she could not speak. When she could she kissed his cheek first.

"There will be some very dark times ahead, but we'll make it through them together, Logan. I love you." She kissed his eyelids next and heard him sigh. "And I'm yours to do with as you please," she added lightly, hoping to cheer him.

His eyes flicked open and the naked adoration in them nearly overwhelmed her. She felt his love wash over her in a cascade of warmth, needfulness, and devotion.

She hoped her eyes revealed her equal adoration for him and she hugged him tightly, willing her love to blanket and comfort him.


	27. Chapter 27

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #27**

"My Annika, don't leave!" His sunken eyes, gleaming with love and hope only moments before, were now losing their lustre by the second.

"I must! Jasper insists that it is urgent. Believe me, Logan, I wouldn't leave you now if he hadn't convinced me this is extremely important." Annika kissed him fiercely. "Besides, we've been able to bypass the 'Three Times Only' rule, so don't think we cannot be together again." _Curse that damned Guild Seal!_

He pulled her so tightly against the full length of him that she could barely breathe. "Have we?" he groaned. "What if this was a dreadful mistake on my part and..."

"Shush!" Annika managed to say, and then drew a deep breath to fill her nearly emptied lungs. "It's all right, love. We met in a purely natural way, so that Rule does not apply here." She peppered his pale face with feather-light kisses before tugging at his lower lip with her teeth. "Everything is going to be all right." For whatever reason, she knew she must reassure Logan. His behaviour had never been so desperate and needful before, nor had it been intertwined with such raw fear.

Logan continued to pull and tug at her heart with his partially revealed secrets. He either could not or would not tell her what it was he was so dreading that rendered him this vulnerable. It was unlike him to be so afraid that he lost control over his own actions. He had needed her love and reassurance, yet he had also commanded her, taken her, and, as he had said, 'bent her to his will.' Of course she had allowed this, but his need for such compliance from her had been chillingly genuine.

"You will leave me now," he said, his voice hollow, thin, and achingly devoid of hope.

"Only for a while," she replied tenderly. She straddled his body and cradled his head between her warm palms and stared intently into his eyes. "Logan, do you trust me or not?" She could not leave him like this. She had to make him feel better; she had to!

He squeezed his lids closed and his breath hissed out in a resigned sigh, and he did not answer her immediately. His lips thinned and whitened with tension, his eyelids twitched, and he swallowed thickly.

Finally, after several long and agonizing moments, he said, "I trust you, Annika." His eyes flicked open and met her gaze. "I trust you with my very soul."

Annika sighed with relief and bent to kiss him. She would not disappoint him, nor betray his trust. She would protect and cherish his love, trust, and his soul. All of him, the entire package that was Logan, she would protect and hold sacred.

His hands gripped her hips, then slid up to twine in her tousled hair.

"I trust you," he repeated. "I now can only hope to truly earn, and continue to earn, yours."

She stared into his eyes, watching life return to them, even though she knew he was still afraid.

"You have my trust, Logan, without conditions or bargains. That is all a part of love." She then remembered something he had asked her earlier and decided that this was the time to remind him. "Logan, I love all of you; the good, the evil, the merciful and the merciless." As he clung to her every word she forged on, sensing the hope return to his fragile heart. "What you seem to forget is that true love is all-accepting, and I accept all of you. Has it never occurred to you that I sometimes fear the very things that you do? Do you think I never fear that you will, perhaps, find another to love? Another to both surrender to and command? Another to..." She swallowed audibly, hating the sensation of cold and raw fear that materialised and began to snake around and threaten her heart. "Another to share your bed? Bear your child? One in whom you will confide your secrets? After all, you do not confide in me!"

She clapped a hand over her mouth, ashamed. Oh, why had she ever gone on _that _tangent? Of all times she could have chosen, this was definitely _not _the right one! Besides that, she had faltered in her own trust of him, even if for only a moment. She did trust Logan. She trusted him utterly. However, her final words revealed her deepest insecurities. She did not feel worthy of him, else she would not have spewed such venom!

His eyes instantly clouded with pain and she placed her fingers on his lips to keep him from speaking. "Logan, I am sorry! I do trust you. I just sometimes cannot help but feel frustrated and insecure when you keep things from me. Please remember that I am on a Path that both exhilarates and terrifies me. You are a strong King, while I am but a young Princess who has so much to learn. Am I worthy of you? Am I worthy of being a Hero?" She sighed and leaned down to press her forehead gently to his.

Her heart pounded furiously to fight the icy tendrils of fear and insecurity. Its hot desperate pulsing against the cold and clenching fingers that threatened to choke her heart to a stop suddenly eased just enough to allow her to realise something incredible. The fear was not entirely hers; it was also Logan's.

Was he feeling this very same sickening fear? She brushed her tongue over his bottom lip, so warm before, but so cold now. Yes, he felt it. They both did. Well, she could and would willingly share this with him, and if she could, relieve him of it altogether. At the very least, could she lighten his burden?

"Logan, I feel how you are in such pain! Will you not allow me to ease it?"

Annika fell silent now, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to settle completely upon his body. His easy breathing told her that her weight was slight and caused him no distress. She felt him pull a sheet over them and he gently moved her head to rest in the crook between his shoulder and neck.

"My Annika," he whispered hoarsely, "please don't ever doubt my love and fidelity! I tell you all that I can, and someday that will be everything. For now, I confide what I am able. We are nearly out of time, my love, so let me say this quickly. You are my only love, and I will never want nor desire another; ever. If you choose to someday leave me I will still be yours, even if I lay broken and bleeding at your feet. You are more than worthy of the sometimes pitiful man you call 'King,' and you are indeed worthy of being the Hero. Soon, perhaps very soon, you may need to make the Choice you once were spared from making. If that happens, I beg of you to remember all we have spoken of. If you do that, I will be considerably more at ease."

He held her head to his shoulder and did not allow her to look into his face. "And now _She_ is going to interfere, isn't she?"

Annika found her head suddenly released and Logan's lips were frantically claiming hers. She returned his kiss, desperate to seal what she felt was a renewal of their vows.

And then she was standing in the Sanctuary naked save for the bed sheet she hastily and clumsily wrapped around herself as Jasper spun and covered his eyes.

"Theresa," she muttered angrily, stomping her bare foot on the marble floor, and then wincing in pain. "Botheration!"

Annika then composed herself as best she could and took a deep breath. "Jasper, you can turn around," she snapped. "And yes, I realise that you know precisely where I was and with whom."

Why was she suddenly so angry with her loyal butler? Of course he would know, or at least likely have surmised her relationship with Logan. Butlers had a knack of knowing the most inconvenient things. Well, as long as he held his tongue...

"Miss, I beg your pardon, but I did not do anything to force you here!"

"I know, Jasper," she replied, her temper calming at his soft and worried tone. "It was Theresa. She wants me to proceed with whatever you told me was so important earlier."

Jasper visibly calmed when he saw that she was covered from toes to chin with the purple silk bed sheet.

"Yes, Princess. I can see from the Map Table that there is an urgent task to which you must attend. There is a woman at the Bowerstone Shelter who is in dire need of your aid." Jasper did not step toward her, but rather back a little. He was plainly uncomfortable with her state of undress and even more so with the confirmation of her relationship with Logan.

"I see," Annika said, her mind's eye forming an image of the woman from her dream. "I wonder why she is so important?" She was, or rather would be, Annika knew. This was either no ordinary woman or her circumstances were quite extraordinary. Or both.

"Miss?"

"Jasper, I've dreamt of her and know that she will be a very important player in this great drama of Theresa's. I just cannot help but wonder precisely how." Then she shrugged in resignation and smiled. "Well, I suppose I'll dress and go to her and find out, eh?"

"I...yes, Miss."

Annika sighed and hoped that her old friend would not desert her. "Jasper, you know now. You know about me and Logan. I ask that you keep our secret and to also try and suspend your judgement."

The old man nodded slowly and with respect. "Of course, but I fear for you, Miss Annika," he said quietly. His large eyes were filled with a sadness that both touched and annoyed her.

Annika understood his love and protectiveness, but again, he was possibly someone who had already judged and condemned Logan! His aura appeared uncertain, however, so she decided to hold on tight to the hope that he would not abandon her in the end.

She greatly feared such from Walter; she had barely escaped censure from Major Swift, and she did not want to add Jasper to the list of people who she would later have to fear losing altogether.

"Jasper, your fear is misplaced. I know it must appear otherwise to you, but I am quite safe," she said. "In fact, if you knew how much he loves and aids me, you'd perhaps feel otherwise." She turned toward her Wardrobe Room. She did not want to see his expression, if indeed he wore one at all.

"I'll don something appropriate and see what this woman needs from me."

"Yes, Princess."

* * *

><p>What Annika deemed 'appropriate' was men's clothing, some of which was dyed purple. She presented quite a picture; a Heroine with long curling purple hair tied back in a black cord, a purple work shirt, trousers, black leather boots, black leather gloves, and her Swift Irregular rifle and Logan's sword strapped to her back.<p>

Poopsie wore a purple leather collar with small gold spikes with which he seemed proud. As soon as she had placed it on him he adopted what she thought of as a 'princely swagger' and preened as if he were on display. Of course he had to be relieved that she had not dyed his fur purple. He had likely not forgotten that her mother had dyed her dog, Crowley, pink for awhile. The poor Dalmatian had been mortified for weeks before the former Queen had abandoned the scheme and restored his natural colouring.

It was a strange sight for Annika to see, for the first time in physical form, the woman only paces from her. She wore drab brown trousers, a tan peasant blouse, worn black boots, and her chestnut hair was tied back into a messy bun. Her pale face was smudged with dirt and her brown eyes were surrounded by dark circles of fatigue.

She was a pretty woman, and part of her beauty, Annika sensed, as well as saw from her pure and strong aura, stemmed from her goodness of heart and pure determination. There was a pale green surrounding her, and now Annika knew that colour indicated exhaustion bordering on hopelessness. Well, she would do her best to see that this woman need never feel hopeless again. She was good; plain and simple. She was good and strong and deserved to be able to put those qualities to good and practical use.

"I'm Annika, the one some call the 'Hero of Brightwall,'" she said, moving forward and extending her hand.

The woman smiled and clasped it. "I've dreamt of you, and I can see by the look on your face that you've dreamt of me. I'm Linda, and I own and run this Shelter and Orphanage."

For several moments the two women merely stared at each other in a mutual agreement of evaluation of the other. The air around them grew thick with something that Annika could only imagine was some sort of Significance. She had never felt such a feeling before. It was similar to what she felt with everyone she cared about, yet there was a distinct difference. Something certain, yet uncertain about this woman. Or was it that Annika was certain, yet uncertain, of her? Or would be?

She the involuntarily squinted and saw a flash of black and white radiate from Linda's head and then it vanished. Before she would find herself lost in thought, she shook her head and smiled at Linda. Her own questions would wait.

"I'm very pleased to meet you at last in person," she said sincerely. "I know you need my help, and your plea was so powerful that I agreed. In fact, I promised you my aid. What can I do for you?"

"Come, sit with me on the stairs," Linda said, gesturing to the entrance to the Shelter. "I told everyone here that when you came I would need to speak with you privately."

Annika seated herself beside her and Poopsie nudged Linda's hand, begging for attention.

Linda laughed and scratched him behind his ears. "I even saw him in your dream! What is his name?"

"Ah," Annika stammered, embarrassed, "well, to tell you the truth, I got him when I was 'young and dumb,' as they say. His name is 'Poopsie.'"

"Poopsie?" Linda guffawed and the sound was not mocking, but one of pure joy.

Annika joined her in laughter. It felt good to laugh so heartily. When was the last time either had done so, she wondered?

"Well, it fits him! He's regal, noble, strong, yet he has such an obvious love for you that somehow the name fits," Linda said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "I once had a dog I named 'Babykins.'"

It was Annika's turn to guffaw, and even Poopsie barked. He was obviously relieved to not bear _that _name.

"I should really get to the point, as there isn't much time," Linda said, and squeezed Annika's hand. "I hope you can help me."

"Just tell me what the problem is," Annika said, "and I'll do what I can."

"Thank you. Well, in short, I own and run this Shelter. I have ever since I was fifteen and my parents died, leaving it to me. It has always been an Orphanage, but it also once had a school. Since Reaver and the King combined forces, the taxes in this town have risen so high that nobody here can afford to have their children schooled. With the loss of that kind of necessary coin to keep things going, I closed the school and converted that wing into a shelter for the homeless to have food to eat and beds at night."

She sighed and Annika clung to her hand, sensing that Linda needed the comfort, small as it was.

"It is hard work, but it has its rewards. Helping people, finding families for orphaned children; it's all I ever wanted to do with my life! A few months ago a young man came here and said that the King had banished him from his family home and that he had nowhere to go. He was...is...such a handsome fellow, and obviously of noble stock."

Annika's heart began to beat faster. She couldn't possibly be referring to...

"His name is Elliot, and we grew closer as time passed. He helped me with the work here and once I taught him to cook and make beds, he took on all sorts of mundane but necessary chores. He eased so much of my burden, and more than that, he eased my loneliness."

Linda paused and stared into the darkening sky. Annika's heart beat furiously now. Elliot had been here? Logan had denied him access to his family home? And he had decided to just forget about her and move on with this woman? Linda was lovely enough and undoubtedly worthy, but a pang of unwanted anger stabbed at Annika's pride. He could move on so easily, could he? Bastard! They had been best friends and he had professed to love her! Never mind that she did not love him; that was hardly the point! Would he give up on this woman so easily, too, if chance presented itself? She gritted her teeth and forced her attention back to Linda's story.

"We became engaged only days ago, and I've never been so happy!"

Annika squeezed her hand encouragingly. "I'm sure you will be again," she forced herself to say. "What happened then?"

Linda's shoulders slumped. "Nigel Ferret, the local Criminal Kingpin, is what happened. He told me he wanted to buy my building for less than half its worth! I told him no and to bugger off, and then the very next day my Elliot went missing! One of Ferret's scum-bags delivered a note to me and it said that if I don't come up with 10,000 gold that he will kill my fiancé!"

"I am wealthy," Annika said, "can I not simply give you the amount?" But even as she asked the question she knew this task could not possibly turn out to be so simple.

Linda gasped and blushed, then shook her head furiously. "Oh, no! I could never accept so much money! Well, I suppose I could, if I thought it would free us from Ferret for good, but I know better."

"Why? What would happen?"

"He wouldn't stop there," Linda replied. She looked directly into Annika's eyes. "For whatever reason he wants my building. I don't know if he just wants to rid Bowerstone of its last remaining haven for the orphans, homeless and jobless or not, but I do know that he will not stop until I sell him this place."

The fine hairs on the back of Annika's neck bristled with rage. "How dare he? You do good things here! Who does he think he is?"

"Exactly! And it's obvious that the King will do nothing. I've petitioned the soldiers, but they just laugh at me." Linda's entire demeanour radiated less hope than even before, but only for a moment.

"Annika, will you help me? Will you find my Elliot and help me fend off goons like Ferret? If we work together, perhaps we can save this Shelter and the People will still have hope to cling to in these desperate times."

Annika clasped both of Linda's hands in hers. "I will. Where is your fiancé?"

"I don't know. I'm supposed to get the coin and go to that ugly house across the street. Well, that _really_ ugly one with the green door. Whether Elliot is in there or not I don't know, but that is what I was told to do. I'm not one to be afraid of a fight, but I'm a simple woman and don't have the skills or muscle for however many goons could be in there. That's where you come in."

Annika smiled and stood. "You're absolutely right. That is where I come in. Let's go."


	28. Chapter 28

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #28**

Theresa had warned him to not tell Annika too much of what he knew. Logan seethed at the memory. How much was too much? And what, precisely, was to be concealed? That damned Seer had spoken to him as if he were a simpleton. Who was this arrogant gypsy that she should wield such control over his family?

It was true that she had 'guided' the family Heroes along their Paths, but who was she? It was obvious to him that she must have an agenda. Logan could not believe that her motives were completely selfless. If she was selfless, he reasoned, why did she conceal so much? Not only did she keep secrets and withhold the majority of the truth for herself, but if his mother was correct in her later deductions of the gypsy's character, she had also orchestrated the murder of the former Hero of Strength's father.

"_Yes, you wanted Hammer to be a fighter, not a pacifist, and suddenly her father was 'discovered' by Lord Lucien's men? How convenient, you conniving bitch!"_ he thought, but did not speak aloud. He should expect that she could hear him at any time.

He hated her with a passion, but for Annika's sake, and for Albion's, he could not allow that to be known. Of course it was possible, even likely, that Theresa knew his feelings. Regardless, she spoke to him condescendingly, yet with a tone of reason he was loathe to ignore.

"_Attempting to influence Annika, even if you see yourself protecting her, is dangerous, King Logan." _

"_Are you truly willing to risk not only the fate of Albion, but lose her forever?" _

"_She must make her own choices, or what you want the most will be always beyond your reach."_

Even their mother, Amalia Sparrow, had warned him that if Annika was indeed the next Hero, that he could not influence her decisions else he would risk not only losing her but interfering with the well-being of the nation he would someday rule.

But he had felt Annika's fear and intense frustration. Knowing that he was concealing things from her distracted her, thus rendering her more vulnerable to whatever was to come, not strengthening her.

And he was furious with himself. He had summoned her, yes, but he had not known that he would break down before her like a pathetic child! She had seen, felt, and tasted his fear. She had felt his every insecurity. He had, once again, pleaded for her indulgence.

Should he not be stronger for her? Instead, he had taken her love, begged for her understanding, and revealed himself to be an ever-cracking shell of a man. This was not what she needed. This was not what Albion needed. They both needed him to be strong and to be the King he should be, not this fearful wretch whom Annika had held in her loving arms only minutes before.

He could still feel her warmth against his flesh and in their bed. He pressed his naked body firmly into the sheets, attempting to infuse her warmth before it dissipated altogether. She was the only one in all the world who truly loved and could even come close to understanding him.

Hells, he wasn't sure he understood himself. His every action now was performed with doubt, not confidence. Every decision and decree was carried out with endless possible outcomes niggling his brain and stabbing at his conscience.

And now there was a spy in his own castle; he was almost certain of it. If he was correct, or even if he was not, now was the time to pull himself back together, be King, and be the man both Annika and Albion needed.

Even if the consequences would shatter his heart like the fragile stained glass he knew it was.

* * *

><p>The door was opened by a fat greasy man who reeked of filth and ale.<p>

"Eh, you've cost me some money, luv," he said to Linda, "I was bettin' you wouldn't have the money for a week."

"Just shut it and let us in, Keith," Linda snapped.

He let them inside and closed the door. Keith eyed Annika and Poopsie appraisingly. There was a gleam of desire in his eyes that sickened Annika. But what else did she expect from low-life thieves?

"Who is this?" he asked Linda, nodding to Annika. "Pretty one, she is, but Mr. Ferret not be likin' strangers."

"In your parlance she's the 'bag man,' and the gold doesn't leave her hands until you've released my fiancé from whatever filthy hole you've got him in!"

"Fine, fine, no need to get all uppity," Keith said, gesturing to a trap door at the rear of the room. "Mr. Ferret's through that door and down the steps."

Linda moved forward but Annika drew her sword, spun around, and ran it through the thief's chest. He didn't even gurgle or struggle, the fatal blow had been delivered so quickly. He merely blinked several times in astonishment and crumpled forward to the floor.

"Why did you do that?" Linda gasped as Annika bent down and wiped her blade clean on the dead man's clothing.

"One less thief in this town," Annika muttered, sighing when her searching hands found no loot worth keeping on his person. "He's bad, Linda, this one. He's very bad, and if I didn't kill him he'd just go on killing others."

"Well," her companion replied, rethinking the situation, "I suppose you're right. I've a feeling that Ferret isn't going to keep his end of the deal, anyway. At least not without a few more conditions."

"Another reason for me to come along?" Annika asked with a grin.

Linda chuckled. "I suppose so! Say, I've never seen anyone move so fast in all my life! You really are a Hero, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am," Annika replied. "It's not all fun and games, though. I think the hardest part is knowing that I have to constantly decide who lives and who dies. I never thought that one day I'd be a person who would kill someone she doesn't even know."

"But you only kill bad people, right?"

"Yes, at least so far," Annika said slowly, standing. "But Linda, who is to say that some day I won't kill someone who other people think is good? After all, isn't the opinion of who is good and who is evil entirely subjective? And what if I decide to not kill someone who others believe to be evil?" She looked intently into Linda's face.

The woman looked uneasy for a moment, but then shrugged as her visage brightened. "Annika, you're a good sort; I can tell. You just do your best and everything will sort itself out. I, for one, trust you."

That simple statement, which tumbled so easily from Linda's lips, made Annika uneasy. Not only did she wonder if she deserved such easy trust, but she did not know how she would behave when she saw Elliot again; nor he her.

"Thanks," she murmured, moving forward. "Let's go down and meet Ferret."

They descended the creaky wooden steps and found themselves in a large room that stank of the sewers.

"The sewers; I should have known," Linda said, recoiling from the smell. "What a sophisticated lot Ferret has. Pfah...the stench!"

Annika wrinkled her nose in disgust. Not even Page's area beneath Bowerstone smelled this bad. She patted her dog's head.

"Sorry, boy, but I'm afraid your nose is in for no treat today."

The enormous room was filled with crates, barrels, and gigantic casks of whiskey and ale. Further ahead were tables where over a dozen thieves sat, drank and chatted. One man, rather fat and better dressed than the others, rose as they approached.

Annika readied herself for battle, as Ferret's aura revealed both cowardice and cunning; a dangerous combination.

"Well, well, I see you brought a friend with you," the man said. He nodded to Annika and waved to his men to remain seated.

"I'm Nigel Ferret, the head of Bowerstone's 'Underground Trade,' the man said in a smooth, oily tone. "Who are you?"

"This is the Hero of Brightwall, and you'd do well to not cross her!" Linda replied when Annika remained silent.

"Well, now, isn't this lovely? Charming Linda and her pretty Hero friend," Ferret purred. He gestured to a table with several unoccupied chairs. "Would you like to be seated? Partake in a libation?"

"We'd just like you to hand over this woman's fiancé, you odious jackanapes!" Annika said sharply. She had assessed her surroundings and doubted that Ferret or his men would be much of a challenge if he decided to fight rather than hand Elliot over.

Ferret laughed. "If you think I'm not going to collect the gold I am owed, or given the deed to the Shelter for a 'reasonable' price, then you are very much mistaken, my lady. Hero or not, I doubt you could have the upper hand if I presented it to you on a platter."

Linda snorted. "You've no idea what she is capable of, Ferret. Didn't you hear me when I told you that she's the Hero of Brightwall? Do you think she is called that because she can't handle herself in a fight?"

The leader of the thieves chuckled. "Linda, Linda, that's your entire problem! You believe everything you hear! Allow me to illuminate the situation for you. You've brought in a fighting woman; nothing more. I have fourteen men who are well armed and well paid to protect me and perform whatever tasks I assign them."

"Allow me to enlighten _you_," Annika interjected, becoming more irritated with every word the sycophantic fool uttered. "I am more than a match for your smelly and pathetic little band. Hand over this woman's fiancé at once or I'll take him over your corpses. Am I clear?" She placed her hand on the pommel of her sword.

Ferret sucked in a nervous breath when he saw the steely glint in Annika's eyes. He stepped back a pace, coughed, and then visibly composed himself.

"Lads, I instruct you to earn your pay today. Take her head!" He pointed to Annika.

The thieves rose and drew their swords.

"Linda, under there!" Annika ordered, gesturing to the head table. "Poopsie, guard Ferret!"

She had barely time enough to see both scurrying to obey when Ferret's men were upon her. Annika seized her sword firmly and crouched. The moment boots and legs thundered toward her she swung the sword in an arc, slicing through trousers and leather.

Curses were shouted and violent tension filled the air. The adrenaline and 'Hero Blood' she had been hoping for pumped quickly through her body and propelled her into the now familiar state of inhumanly fast movement. These were only men, albeit decent fighters, but they appeared sluggish to Annika. Sluggish and akin to cattle more than ripe for slaughter.

She leapt to her feet and charged forward. A man to her left yelled something frantic and incoherent. Annika snarled, grabbed his hair and jerked his head back hard, snapping his neck. He dropped and she jumped over his corpse to run the next man through his heart.

Hot blood on her hands and arms seemed to fuel her energy further and suddenly she was atop a table without knowing how she got there. It didn't matter, she realised. The shouting voices were distorted and the rushing of her own blood in her ears blocked out everything that didn't matter. The weapons poised to strike her down didn't matter, as their movement was ridiculously slow and predictable.

Reality for every other creature in the room didn't matter. There was only Annika and this incredibly bizarre world where motion was slowed and her skills were both quickened and heightened. More and more often when she fought she experienced what she had dubbed the 'State of Heroes' where reality was altered. She had never entered it so quickly before; however, she had also never been so prepared to fight. Or was it that this time she was actually itching for a fight? Craving a fight?

She allowed herself to drop onto her back and as more men closed in she kicked out with one foot, striking a man in the face with her boot heel as hard as she could. He went down instantly. Reaching over her head she grabbed another and brought his head down on her forehead so hard she heard his skull crack. Another thief down.

Her spine curved as she used its momentum to spin her body around to face more thieves. Snarling, she sliced a hand off above the wrist and the limb and its weapon were sent flying. The man screamed in rage and pain and Annika used both her feet to kick him in his chest so hard his ribs cracked. He went down in a mess of flailing limbs and flying spittle.

She was suddenly on the floor and drew her pistol. The remaining thieves had drawn back and had no intention of getting within melee range. Remembering to use her evasion acrobatics, Annika rushed toward them while dodging their gunfire, then dropped and rolled as she fired off shot after shot. Swift had taught her well. She could now hit a moving target with uncanny accuracy; however, these men were not moving rapidly at all. In fact, they practically stood still as they fired at her.

She couldn't help but laugh when she realised that their bullets went ridiculously wide of their mark while hers were deadly accurate. Shot after shot she fired her pistol and in the slow-motion of her 'Hero's World' the remaining thieves went down in pools of their own and each others blood.

Annika rolled to a stop and lay still, panting. The blood-roar in her ears slowly subsided and she gradually became aware that the room was quiet. Too quiet.

Full awareness and return to 'normal' reality returned as she realised that the room was not actually quiet, but filled with a low keening.

Annika turned and saw that Linda's face was white with a mixture of triumph and what looked like horror. Ferret was so frightened that he had pissed himself, and Poopsie was growling low and keeping the man perfectly still. The keening was coming from Ferret.

"I...you...I'm no...no threat without...my men, you see," he stammered as Annika strode to him. "You are free to take the boy! Just don't hurt me!"

Linda's face was still pale, but she was composed enough to look Annika squarely in the eyes. "I've never seen anything like that," she said softly, "but then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Violence is best met with violence, I suppose."

Something in her voice clearly indicated that she was deeply disturbed by what she had witnessed in Annika's short but bloody battle with Ferret's men.

"Are you all right?" Annika asked the woman, feeling a creeping dread gnaw at her own gut. Had she really been such a monster only moments before? No, surely not! She had merely done what she had to do.

Linda slowly nodded. "I...I should have expected such. I've just never seen a real battle up close before."

Her strained voice betrayed her unease, but she resolutely gathered herself together and spoke firmly to Ferret.

"So, are you going to give me back my fiancé or should I ask her to do the same to you, Ferret?"

Ferret pointed a violently trembling finger to a door behind a stack of ale kegs. "In there," he said.

"Wait here, Linda." She nodded to her dog. "Keep guarding him. If he moves so much as an inch, rip his throat out."

She went to the door and opened it. Inside a dimly lit small storage room she saw Elliot tied to a chair. She closed the door behind her and went to him.


	29. Chapter 29

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

_Warning for this chapter – Elliot is not portrayed in a very good light. However, that is not necessarily my opinion of him; this is just for the sake of this story. :)_

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #29**

Seeing Elliot again was something Annika had thought she was, at least somewhat, prepared for. She wasn't. The fact that he was tied to a chair, blindfolded and gagged, was not a surprise; he was a kidnap victim, after all. But the look on his face as she closed the door behind her made time slide back to their childhood.

He looked so young and frightened, and so utterly vulnerable that Annika felt her heart clench. For a few moments she saw the Elliot that she had adored for many years and until fairly recently. The Elliot who was handsome and sensitive and needed her. Just like he needed her now.

His fingers twitched as if he thought he could loosen his wrist bindings, but the twitching was spasmodic and not purposeful. How long had he been here, she wondered. His entire body trembled, his neck continued to jerk, and all his senses were on high alert. She smelled his sweat and terror and so she hastened to reassure him.

"It's all right, Elliot, it's me," she whispered, feeling a wave of pity for him wash over her. "It's Annika."

His body sagged in relief and she removed his bindings. She massaged each limb carefully to help restore his circulation and ease his soreness. For several long minutes he was silent and silently accepted her assistance. Then he cleared his parched throat.

"Annika? I..." His large brown eyes bored into hers as he unsteadily struggled to his feet. His face registered residual shock but also happiness that it was indeed she who had come to rescue him. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

Annika swallowed nervously. She thought that Elliot would possibly have been happy to see her, but now he looked more pleased than she would have anticipated. He seemed positively delighted, giddy, and even hopeful. She knew the look in his eyes; he used to look at her like that before he would declare how much he cared for her and would hint at a future with her.

That look made her very uncomfortable now. Perhaps she was misreading him, however. His aura was still showing fear and anxiety, so she was possibly confusing his intentions.

"Elliot," she said tightly, "it's...good to see you. I heard you were in Ferret's hands and I came along to help..."

"Annika!" He seized her in a fierce embrace and buried his head in her hair. "I've missed you so much! Do you have any idea how many nights I laid awake worrying about you? Wondering how you were? Wondering if you were thinking of me as much as I was thinking of you?"

"Elliot..."

"Annika," he murmured into her neck, "I'm so glad you came!"

He pushed her back and peered into her face with an intensity that startled her. "I've had so much time to think while I've been here; so much time to think and regret and...hope to make amends somehow."

"Elliot, you needn't say such things to me!" Annika said softly but urgently. "All that matters is that you're safe now. I bear you no ill will! I just..."

"Annika, will you marry me now? You've obviously left your brother and are becoming the Hero everyone's been talking about! Logan can't control you anymore. He has no power over you! You are free now and we can set up house here in Bowerstone!"

"Elliot!" she gasped, scandalised. "What about Linda? She's the one who called me! She even reached me in my dreams! She loves you, Elliot, and you've already asked her to marry you!"

Elliot's expression saddened. "I know, Annika, but please try and understand." He grasped her upper arms, thumbs caressing dangerously close to the sides of her breasts. "I...I love Linda, but not like I love you. She's an incredible woman, and she's done so much for the People! She works hard, and she took me in and taught me so much. She gave me a reason to live again. But Annika, _you _are the one I truly want to be with."

His eyes brightened again and he pulled her closer to him. Annika could feel the heat of his body despite the cool dampness of the Sewers. Once, his closeness would not have bothered her, even though she had never been in love with him. She had always felt close to him and considered him her best friend, but now his sudden change in attitude more than unnerved her; it almost frightened her. Or was it her past naiviety that frightened her? Had she seen in Elliot what she had wanted to see and not what he really was? It seemed more and more likely that Logan had been right about disliking Elliot all along. Still, she had to say something to him! He was staring intently at her, awaiting her response.

"But Elliot, you were so angry and upset with me! You called me deviant and despised me for loving my brother and standing by him!"

"Yes, about that... I was a fool. I wasn't thinking straight and I was jealous of Logan. Yes. I admit now that I was jealous of your brother. He always has his way, especially concerning you, and he constantly told you what to do and how to live, Annika. Still, you've always been your own person, or so I thought. When it came to you and me, you hedged so much...and now I know it was because of his sick hold on you! But you're free now! Linda will understand. She knows that I come from a noble background, not to mention that everyone I ever knew before her were people of higher birth at the palace."

"You told her about me?"

"No! I just told her that I lost someone very dear to me and that Logan drove me off my land. I don't know, Annika, she may suspect that I was in love, but she's never asked me and so I never told her. It wouldn't have been gentlemanly of me to remind her of her low birth, especially since my own circumstances had changed so completely. Besides, I thought that all hope was lost with you."

Annika was silent, processing his words. He still cared for her? Perhaps. Perhaps he simply thought he did. Regardless, Linda was a fine woman and loved him deeply! The fact that Elliot was willing to shove her aside simply because they had found each other, when there had never been a formal understanding between them before, angered her. Linda deserved a man who loved her as deeply as Logan loved her. She deserved a man who would not shove her back 'down' to her level of society just because he found the Princess again, old friends or not.

What should she do? Taking Elliot 'back' was out of the question. She no longer trusted him or even wanted him. She wanted him even less now that he had shown how callous he could be as to shove the woman who would risk everything for him aside!

Annika was suddenly filled with a nervous dread, and her dread had little to do with Elliot, though at this moment he was the catalyst who brought it on. She was nervous because she fully realised that she was capable of evil. If she was capable of carrying out the evil act she was contemplating now, what would she be capable of as she increased in power and skill?

Hurting Linda was not something she wanted to do, but she did not think that Linda should have such a poor specimen of a man as Elliot as her husband. She deserved much better. Still, should she interfere? Probably not, Annika concluded, yet interfere she would.

"Elliot," she said, raising a hand to cup his face, "I would be honoured to...see where things could go with us. But I don't want to hurt Linda!"

Oh, she was being wickedly manipulative!

Elliot surprised her by kissing her quickly but soundly. "My love!" he cried joyously, "say nothing now. Allow me time to break it to Linda. Meet me in three days at the Pub. Then we can plan our future!"

Annika allowed the kiss, but as soon as she could she pulled back. "Elliot, let's return to Linda now. She's been worried nigh unto death for you!"

This was his last chance, she thought. This was his last chance to do the right thing and stay with Linda, marry her, and be a good husband. This was his last chance to not break a wonderful woman's heart.

But Annika was not surprised when he tossed away his chance at being honourable and decent. And not only that, he threw it away with both hands and a lopsided smile.

"Very well, but remember, Annika, don't tell her anything! Leave that to me."

* * *

><p>"Annika, are you paying attention?" Page asked her while refilling her own cup of ale and emptying the pitcher.<p>

"Of course!" Annika replied. "I heard you, but I admit that I was distracted. Earlier today I may have done something that will hurt a new friend of mine, and I feel horrible about it."

She and Page and Ben Finn were in the Bowerstone Industrial Pub, 'hiding in plain sight' as Page called it.

"What did you do?" Ben asked, leaning forward. "Come on, out with the juicy details!"

"Ben!" Page snapped, "that's dreadful of you! If Annika's feeling badly, then maybe she doesn't want to talk about it!"

"Of course she does, don't you, love?" Ben asked Annika, grinning. "It will help ease your guilt if you share it. So, come on! What did you do?"

Annika couldn't help but smile as she sipped her beer. Foul stuff, but good enough to numb her feelings a little.

"I met an old admirer, and he's engaged to someone else," she said. "He made me an offer of marriage as soon as he saw me, and I didn't exactly discourage him."

"You encouraged him, then?" Page asked, her face reflecting disappointment.

"No, of course not! Well, not really. I just didn't say no." Annika hesitated and took another drink. "The woman he's engaged to is not someone I want to hurt. But now that I've seen his true nature and how he'd so easily cast her aside, I'm furious with him! I think my friend deserves better."

"Someone like me!" Ben said, chuckling.

Page rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ben Finn, mender of broken hearts!"

"That's me!" he said cheerfully. "I've mended many a broken heart!"

"And rended it anew," Page said sourly. "Go on, Annika. What did you do?"

"He asked me to stay away for several days so he could have time to break it to her that he wants to end their engagement. I simply...ah...told him that I'd meet him then and then we could see where things between us 'could' go."

Page actually smiled; something she did not often do. "So, you lead him on, will then drop him like a hot rock, and not only save yourself from him, but your friend as well?"

"Sounds good to me!" Ben said, grinning widely. He winked at Annika. "You're my kind of woman! Devious when you have to be, but good at heart!"

"Hmm...I'm actually beginning to agree with _some _of the things you say, Finn," Page said. She then looked at Annika. "I don't agree with deception, but in some cases, I have to admit that some people deserve it."

"I suppose so," Annika said, but she couldn't help but realise that Page meant not only Elliot, but Logan, as well.

"So," she said, desperate to change the subject before _that _territory could come up, "what's this plan of yours?"

"Oh, not so much a plan as you and I attending a very important party," Page informed her.

"Just you two?" Ben asked, putting on a hurt-little-boy look.

"Yes, just us two," Page said firmly. "You'd just be in the way. Besides, this particular 'host' would likely recognize you no matter how we'd try to avoid that. And anyway, this 'host' is very tight with the one we're all working so hard against. We can't risk losing you."

Annika knew they were speaking so as to avoid anyone overhearing anything that would sound unusual, but she knew to whom Page was referring. She meant Reaver, no mistake about it. She well knew from Logan and other members of the Court that Reaver held a masquarade party several times a year. But why did Page care about Reaver right now? Did she really think the two of them could simply enter his home and slay him?

"I'll change your mind about including me," Ben told Page, giving her a wink now. "Besides, why do you want to go? What's there?"

"Not what, but rather, who," Page replied. "He has several of our 'friends' and we need to retrieve them."

A kidnapping? Reaver had captured some of the Underground Rebels?

"I'm definitely in," Annika said, downing the rest of her beer. "Ben, buy us another round, and this time, get me something palatable."

"He can't," Page said cooly. "He lacks good taste."

"Oh, ha ha!" Ben responded with a wry smile. "Very well, my lovlies, another round it is. But don't forget that I have talents that extend beyond merely drinking and keeping beautiful women company."

Page leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. "Whatever you say, Ben."


	30. Chapter 30

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #30**

"I don't know that dying your masquerade costume purple was a a terribly...subtle thing to do, Princess," Jasper observed, eyeing Annika from head to toe. "After all, isn't anonymity the object of infiltrating Reaver's party?"

"Actually, the purpose of infiltrating his party is to rescue some captured rebels," the Princess replied casually. "And I don't believe for a moment that Reaver won't know that we are not among his usual guests."

"So you believe that he will allow you in and won't... ah... do something terribly... er... Reaverish to you?"

"You mean kill me?" Annika asked, fussing with the ruffles at her wrists. She shrugged. "I doubt it. I'm certain that he will know precisely who I am and he isn't foolish enough to kill Albion's Princess."

"But he may seize Page and turn her in to King Logan," Jasper observed. "And what of young Mr. Finn?"

Annika pondered her reflection for a moment in the large oval mirror Jasper had acquired from some high-end shop where only butlers seemed to find. He was right; she wasn't exactly subtle. She had restored her red hair, but her entire noble-woman's gown complete with a gaudy hat with a feather was purple. Even the face mask was purple. She knew her vanity and confidence was probably not a good thing, but she could not find herself fearing Reaver or whoever he would have in his home. As far as she was concerned, if Page could not hold herself in a fight than what good was she? Ben Finn was a soldier, so if he managed to persuade Page to allow him to accompany them, then they had a good man at their back. She truly did not understand Jasper's concern.

"What is there to fear, truly?" she asked her old friend after a moment, turning to face him. "Page surly can fight, and so can Finn. I'm no slouch, either. Besides, if Reaver doesn't want to anger my brother, he won't dare harm me. The worst that can happen, I think, is that we fail to find and free Page's friends."

Jasper frowned. "I cannot agree with you, Miss Annika. I think that Reaver could, and indeed, would, do far worse than simply keep a few hostages."

* * *

><p>"You can't bloody well go in there looking like that!" Page snapped when Annika met her and Captain Finn on the road to Reaver's mansion. "He'll know who you are!"<p>

"Why are you so worried? Does all of Albion know that the Hero of Brightwall prefers purple these days?"

Ben chuckled. "Told you, Page! She'll do as she wants to; this one!"

Annika laughed. "And I knew you'd persuade Page to let you come with us!"

He grinned and gestured to his gaudy green and gold frock. "I look extremely silly, but for a party of Reaver's, I think gaudy and silly is probably the theme."

"Very well," Page sighed irritably, "I suppose I'll have to just accept the both of you as you are. Annika, I wish you had worn the same dress I am, however. The white and blue is fairly inconspicuous and we'd look just alike."

"And the fact that you are brown-skinned and I am pale wouldn't set us apart?" Annika challenged her.

Ben guffawed and Page promptly punched his arm, hard.

"Well, she has a point!" he said, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. Then he stopped laughing and gingerly felt his bicep. "Hey...ouch! That hurts!"

"That's because of the pain," Page said tersely.

Annika snickered and suddenly the tension was broken. Page's face relaxed into a smile and she took Annika's arm.

"You know, you really are a pretty decent person, Annika. Even though you do things differently than I would, it doesn't mean you are wrong. After all, you're helping me and my friends, and I... appreciate that."

"Well, if I were in your position I probably would have punched Ben's arm, too," Annika replied with a matching smile.

"Hey!" Ben protested, "is this how it's gonna be? Two against one?"

"Actually," Page said, looking up the road at the largest and most ostentatious house in Millfields, "it will be three against one. We won't be able to help each other, quite possibly. We may find ourselves fighting for our own lives as well as for our captured friends. But, first and foremost, we will _all _have to survive."

Annika suddenly felt a surge of doubt. Earlier, with Jasper, she had been bubbling with confidence, but now, seeing and feeling how very close they were to Reaver himself, the ancient, notorious, and infamous Hero of Skill, her confidence began to slip. In fact, she began to feel that entering his personal territory may not be such a good idea after all.

"I am suddenly beginning to wonder if even the three of us against Reaver will be enough," she heard herself murmur.

"What?" Page asked her, her large chocolate eyes widening in genuine surprise, "of course we will be! He's just a man, after all! Granted, he's good with a gun, but that doesn't make him a god!"

"Still, it is never a good idea to underestimate your opponent for even a moment," Annika said softly. "I once underestimated Hobbes, and my first battle with them nearly got me killed!"

Both Ben and Page had the good sense to not laugh at the Princess. As far as they knew, Hobbes were not a major threat. They two were also seasoned fighters, but neither had ever battled those particular creatures before, so they allowed some leeway for Annika's recent inexperience. Page had extensive experience with bandits and mercenaries, and Ben the same, and Hollowmen to boot, but neither had ever encountered Hobbes.

"He knows we are here," she added softly. "He's no fool; I am certain that he knows."

Annika sighed softly and emphatically shoved her misgivings to the back of her mind. She had a mission to accomplish, and the primary goal was to succeed, and succeed with her life intact. Logan's face coalesced in her mind's eye and she saw the worry on his gaunt and tired face. She saw the weariness and dread in his sunken eyes. Most of all, she _felt _him. She felt that even now, at this very moment, he knew where she was and what she was about to attempt and he was afraid for her. Yet, despite his fear, he was determined to somehow give her strength and courage. How, she did not know, but she knew that would find a way to aid her if she truly needed him.

She knew she should have pressed him for more information regarding their Bond, but she had respected his wish to not question him until 'a certain day.' Still, she was frustrated that she did not know precisely what Logan had done. He had obviously dabbled in High Magic, but how much of it could he command? He was not a Hero, but he was still a brilliant and determined man. There was no reason that he would be unable to become a proficient mage if that was his desire.

"Annika?"

She blinked and turned to look at Ben and Page. She did not know which one had spoken her name, as her mind had been so far away, but she nodded to them both.

"So, do we just approach the Mansion and request entrance?" she asked. "After all, if he is expecting us, as I assume he is, he'll make it easy for us to enter."

"Yes, true enough" Page said, taking a deep breath and grasping Annika's arm with right hand and Ben's with her left. "At least I hope that is all it will take. I hope you are wrong about his knowing, though."

"Hmph," Ben said, "I think that to Reaver, the more the merrier. I don't think he'll give a tinker's arse how many guests he has, or even who they are. He's a smug one, he is, but also clever. We'll have to really watch our backs with that one. Make sure your weapons are concealed." He paused and looked intently at first Page and then Annika. "I think we can succeed. Just don't let down your guard for a moment, you hear me? Not a single moment!"

"Agreed," Annika said and began to walk forward. "Let's get moving and do this!"

* * *

><p>Barry Hatch, Reaver's weasely toadying little servant, allowed them in without argument, reinforcing Annika's opinion that Reaver knew they were present and desired their attendance. He either did not consider them a threat, or else he considered them a great enough threat to imprison or kill them. Still, Annika doubted he would actually kill them. She was the Princess, and she doubted that even Reaver would test Logan's wrath if she were to die. Or at least die by his own hand.<p>

Nobles from all over Millfields were drinking, dancing, laughing, and gossiping all around the large foyer. Others flowed into the kitchens to refresh their drinks or fill their plates without waiting for the servants. It was obvious that most were already drunk, and more than one couple or small group headed upstairs, undoubtedly to a bedroom for a 'private party.'

Annika's stomach churned. Some of the posters plastered about Bowerstone were correct, she concluded. Instead of 'Reaver is Industry' someone had scratched out the word 'Industry' and written in 'Deviant.' That person was absolutely spot on, it seemed. Of course, Reaver had never made a secret that he was not only a ruthless businessman but also a sexually active man whose tastes ran to the bizarre. What the 'bizarre' entailed, Annika did not want to even guess.

A servant approached her with a tray filled with sparkling glasses of blood-red wine. Why so dark, she wondered. Was it that rich a wine, or did Reaver want minimum staining from spillage to show upon the deep red carpeting, furniture upholstery, and draperies that were everywhere? Other than red and gold, did the man even know other colours existed?

"No, thank you," she said, shaking her head to dismiss the young woman.

"Oh, my dear," a smooth rich voice said in her ear, "you simply must try it! I promise you that it is not poisoned or in any way dangerous."

Her heart at once began to pound furiously. Reaver himself, immaculately dressed in a cream overcoat, white shirt and breeches, and black boots and top hat, appeared at her side as if from out of the air.

He traced a finger over the top of her hand, causing her to shudder. "Here, let me show you." He took a glass, swatted the girl on the behind to dismiss her, then sipped from it.

"Ah... excellent!" he said, his dark eyes brightening. "A perfect year, though I will not disclose what year that would be, for that would be too... revealing. Here, try it!" He gently pressed the crystal glass into her hand.

"Very well," she found herself saying, and sipped, but not without turning the glass so that the part his lips had touched would not touch hers.

The handsome financial tyrant smiled gently at her, and Annika wondered at his show of kindness. He seemed sincere enough; for now. Still, she would not allow herself to fall prey to him in any manner. She knew all too well how he treated anyone who was not 'his', and even those who were.

"Shall we dance?" he asked, taking her hand in his and closing his long fingers warmly around it.

"Well, I..."

"Play something slow for a blasted change!" he shouted at the group of musicians, and Annika couldn't help but smile. She had heard Logan say the same thing many times when they had, in the past, danced together!

Reaver was taller than Logan; in fact, he was taller than almost any man she had ever seen. Still, he was so graceful and accomplished a dancer that she soon felt at ease despite the great disparity in their heights, and despite the fact that she was waltzing with the man who held so much power over Logan.

"So, my dear Princess, to what do I owe the honour of your presence at one of my little... soirees?" he asked after twirling her expertly and pulling her uncomfortably close to his chest.

She was not caught by surprise, for she had been certain that he knew precisely who she was and who she was with.

"For one thing, I am sure you know that I cannot allow you to keep certain... acquaintances of mine captive here. For another, I want you to release your chokehold over my brother!"

Reaver feigned surprise. "My dear, so very beautiful, and so very bold you are! Very well, I will indulge you." He pulled her so close that she could feel his heart beating beneath his shirt. She was vaguely surprised that he had a heart at all.

He bent and whispered into her ear. "I indeed have certain acquaintances of yours nearby, but they are here for good reason!" She was about to pull back from him, but his hand at the back of her neck prevented her from doing so. "Do you truly believe I would allow filthy and traitorous ruffians to spy upon me and invade my own house?"

"I do not know that I believe you!" she said. "Why ever would they approach you, much less your home?"

"I neither know, nor care. All I know is that they were captured with ridiculous ease by my guards and tonight their fate, well..." He licked the shell of her ear and Annika shuddered with revulsion. "Well, their fate lies in your pretty little hands, Princess Annika."

"I suppose you want something from me?" she hissed as he released her to twirl her once again. He pulled her back against him once more and this time his hand slid from the back of her neck to very, very low on her back.

"Oh, I would _love _a few things from you," he said. "However, I shall not request them. I have no taste for incest, or what could possibly be incest."

What? Did he know of her and Logan? Or did he mean something else? He also had said 'possibly incest.' What could he mean by that?

Seeing the obvious questions flit across her face, Reaver smiled. "I see that you wonder at my words. I do not hold the conclusive answers, my dear, but I would rather not risk the possibility that... Never mind. What I do want from you is to earn the release of the ruffian trash you call your acquaintances."

"So they are alive?"

"But of course! I must offer you an incentive, mustn't I? Of course, if your lovely companions would care to join me in my private bed-chamber for an intimate party, that may satisfy me and I'll gladly release them."

"They will never agree to such... debauchery," Annika said with blatant distaste.

"Pity. More is the pity that I cannot have _you_ in my bed. I am certain that you are positive lightening under the bedsheets!"

"My lover and I are only under the bedsheets to sleep. Anything else we do is atop the sheets, or without them altogether," she snapped, wondering why she was telling this deplorable man anything at all. Likely her mother had been right about Reaver. In one of her journals she had said that as distasteful as some people found him, he was also extremely charismatic and persuasive. She had said that Reaver was the only man she had ever known who could sell steak to a fish-monger. Perhaps her mother had been right!

She had best guard her words more carefully.

"My dear young lady, I have no doubt that your lover is a most fortunate man. Ah, if only I could sample your charms!"

"Only in your dreams," she retorted, "and I would rather you not, even in those!"

"Are you so certain about your companions? The woman is an exotic beauty and the young man is appealing in a rougish sort of way."

"Oh, you are disgusting!" Her stomach lurched as he smiled down into her face.

"I feared you might say as much. Ah well, then you must perform for me! I am a most generous man, and I will even allow your companions to aid you. Perform well, and your filthy friends shall go free; perform poorly, and... Well, I would not take any risks if I were you."

"Perform? What do you mean?" A black fist of dread curled its icy fingers around her heart.

"You'll see soon enough. Now, allow me to attend my other guests for awhile. Why don't you inform your charming companions of what I have told you and prepare yourselves. This will be a most entertaining and illuminating evening for us all!"

* * *

><p>"You have been arrested as a spy," Logan coldly informed Swift as the Major was chained by his wrists and ankles into a dungeon cell. He then waved his hand to dismiss the guards.<p>

"You are hereby stripped of your rank and are nothing but a filthy traitor. You disappoint me, Swift. I had thought that of all men, you would hold honour in higher esteem!"

"I hold honour in very high esteem, and by arresting me you are preventing me from carrying out my duty to Albion!"

"You are working against me, aren't you?" Logan demanded. "Admit it!"

Swift was silent.

"I am not pleased at what I must do," the King said. "But I must know everything you know. If you will not volunteer the information, I shall have to... extract it."

Swift sucked in a deep breath but maintained a rigid and determined demeanour.

Inwardly, Logan was a man torn. He knew how dearly Annika adored this man. Torturing him and even possibly killing him would hurt her badly, perhaps irreparably. Even worse, he feared, she would fail in her resolve to love him and believe in him come what may. But, as King, he had to rule with an iron fist lest there, in time, be no Albion to rule at all.

But... could he risk losing Annika? Ah, but knew the answer to that. He knew it in his very heart and soul. He could only hope that she would not weaken in her resolve and allow one man, no matter how dear to her, come between them.

* * *

><p>Annika felt a surge of pain lance through her chest so forcefully that she gasped and felt her face pale and her flesh grow cold.<p>

"Annika," Page whispered, "are you all right?"

"I... I don't know. My chest..." She stopped speaking and closed her eyes. She tried to concentrate on the source of the pain.

Logan; it was Logan! She was feeling _his _pain! The sensation receded, but the feeling of dread accompanying it did not. Something was very wrong. Something was so wrong that Logan was pained, afraid and unable to conceal it from her.

"Yes, Page," she finally said. "I am all right. I think I must be trying too hard to anticipate what Reaver has in store for us."

"Whatever it is," Ben interjected, "it cannot be good. This is Reaver we're talking about, here. Let's hope that whatever it is, it won't be too disgusting."

A sharp rapping that Annika knew all too well sundered the sounds of the room and all fell silent. Reaver was sharply rapping his walking stick on the floor; his preferred, though incredibly irritating, way of commanding attention.

"My lovely moochers, leeches, and so-called party-goers, we are in for a wondrous show tonight! Three of my guests will amuse, astound, and hopefully thoroughly entertain you all! Follow me and soon the highlight of the evening will sweep you away into the realm of thrills and chills, and by the time it has concluded, hopefully not too many corpses to pollute the lake."


	31. Chapter 31

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #31**

Annika was pleasantly surprised, not to mention extremely relieved, that Reaver allowed herself, Page, and Ben to carry their own weapons into the large circular Arena he obviously had built for such 'performances.' The Deviant of Albion had a room that was large enough to host a ball. The room boasted strong stone tiles for the floor, torches lining the walls to provide plenty of light, but instead of doors into and out of the room there were tall iron gates. Annika quickly counted six of them.

Did Reaver intend for them to fight six types of enemies, or six hordes of them? Hells, what did it matter? She and her friends had best ready themselves for anything. Logan had once told her that when it came to surprises of all sorts that Reaver was a master. It was no secret that he indulged in sexual orgies, but that he also hosted the ocassional gladiatorial-type battles and bestowed generous prizes to those who emerged victorious. Of course few emerged victorious, but enough survived to prove the validity of the tales.

Reaver's smooth and smugly cultured voice boomed from the balcony overhead where he and at least a dozen guests had gathered to observe the proceedings.

"Now, let us see how our performers fare against the hideous, the exotic, the clumsy, and the acrobatic expertise of the 'fodder' I have acquired from all over Albion, shall we? I do hope the variety of creatures not only entertain you, my dear guests, but also keep our trio of party-crashers busy. Hatch, ready the gates!"

In the centre of the room Annika, Ben, and Page stood, backs together and facing outward, determined to be prepared for whatever was to come at them.

Annika held Logan's sword, Ben his cutlass, and Page her steel longsword. All three, however, were also ready to switch to their firearms when necessary. Annika gripped her sword so tightly that her hand ached, but she could not help herself. She smelled something; and it both frightened and angered her.

Hobbes. Hobbes were coming! Reaver actually went to the trouble of collecting Hobbes? Annika barked out a laugh, startling her companions.

"You wanted to find out how Hobbes are like to fight? Well, you'll soon find out. I can smell them!"

"I smell the stench of Mercenaries," Page said through clenched teeth, her eyes flitting from one gate to another.

"I could swear that I smell Hollowmen!" Ben added.

Annika groaned. "Well, Reaver just said that we will have a variety! I suppose he wasn't joking."

"Hollowmen?" Page asked, astounded, "I... they really exist? I mean, I've heard of them, but I don't think I've ever truly believed in them!"

"Hells yes, they exist!" Ben snapped, "do you think that Major Swift and I fight little bunnies in Mourningwood?"

"Stop it! We need to focus and act as one," Annika said, trying to keep her impatience with petty bickering in check. "Well, as close to 'one' as we can! Watch each other's backs. Page, you focus on the Mercenaries, Ben, you take the Hollowmen, and I'll take down the Hobbes."

"Heh... if we have a choice!" Page replied, voice tense with worried anticipation. "If we are surrounded, we'll have to fight whatever we get!"

"True, that," Annika conceded, "but first and foremost, let's look out for each other."

"I hear that loud and clear!" Ben said, sounding more cheerful than Annika had lately heard him. It seemed that Finn had missed being in a good fight and was actually looking forward to what Reaver would unleash on them.

Page, on the other hand, was extremely tense and sweat already laced her dark brow.

Annika, other than her underlying fear of Hobbes, was surprisingly calm. Let Reaver do his worst, she said to herself. Likely he would rather put on a good show for himself and his 'guests' and would not want them to die quickly; thus cutting the entertainment short. That sort of conceit in itself would probably give her and her companions a solid chance.

Besides, would Reaver really risk the life of Albion's Princess?

That question was answered almost as soon as Annika pondered it. One gate opened and Page cried out in triumph.

"Mercenaries, hah! Something I know how to fight!"

Annika hoped Page indeed knew. The woman drew her pistol and stepped forward and began firing at one of the inhumanly gigantic ones. Annika utterly despised those; they were the of the largest and burliest of men, much like Saker, and were extremely formidable. Not only could they take a great deal of damage, but they could dish it out as well. They were skilled with firearms, fist-fighting, and hurling flame grenades. They usually did not bother with melee weapons; as their fists were like clubs. Thankfully there were only two of those. The remaining half-dozen were the usual petty piss-ants with short-ranged pistols and short swords. Annika thought of them as trainees, or as she thought of them now; warm-up.

Annika was thankful once again for her practice of dodging and rolling as it allowed her to get close to the large Mercenary that Page was not focussed on. From the corner of her eye she saw Ben draw his pistol and begin firing at one of the small ones while he drew his cutlass. He raced toward them, but seemed safe enough. The piss-ants foolishly turned their complete attention to Ben and left her and Page to deal with their leaders.

Page was firing at hers with a rapidity and skill that surprised Annika. Of course she knew that Page was known to be a good fighter, but she had not anticipated the skill this woman demonstrated. Her muscles rippled and her stance constantly shifted as she fired off shot after shot, not forgetting to side-step the deadly flame grenades that were hurled her way. However, to Annika's disappointment, Page did not even glance her way, or Ben's for that matter. Botheration! Did she not instruct them to do so to make certain that their chances of survival would be higher?

Sighing, Annika propelled herself forward in a series of rapid rolls and leapt to her feet before a man easily twice her height. He snarled so viciously that spittle rained upon her.

"Yer dead, Missy," he hissed, drawing his pistol from his hip. "Meh lads an' me are getting' our pay!"

"I hope your widow gets it!" Annika retorted, wiping spit from her cheek. "That is, if you have a wife!"

Page was still firing and side-stepping her opponent, and Ben had already shot one of the novices and gutted another with his sabre. They were doing well.

She concentrated on the man's chest and lunged forward, stabbing him as hard as she could and drawing her sword back out quickly. Blood sprayed and spurted, some even into her slightly open mouth, but the behemoth did not seem to notice. Damn it, but he _was _like Saker!

She crouched as he swung a fist almost as thick as she was at her head, nearly taking it off her shoulders. She was faster than he was, thankfully, and her dodge and crouch not only saved her from the blow, but drew her level to his knees.

Into his right knee went her sword. The bandit screamed out in pure animal rage and drew a flame grenade from his pouch.

Annika quickly rushed sideways and rolled, making certain to keep herself from nearing Page or Ben. Both, to her relief, were still holding their own, although it seemed that Page's Mercenary was playing with her rather than seriously attempting to kill her. Ben had cut down another novice and had was turning to another.

Annika regained her footing and when the grenade exploded only felt a small amount of heat. She had been uncannily lucky in always managing to dodge those awful things. The last thing she wanted was to singe or lose some of her hair. Her hair was her crowning glory, after all, and healing potions did absolutely nothing for it. As far as Annika was concerned, the cleric who had invented them was guilty of a grievous oversight. She would have to contact a temple and file a complaint.

Damn! The man's large fist nearly connected with her head again as she stood wool-gathering in the middle of the Arena!

Time to rectify that. One more glance to make certain that Ben and Page were all right was all she needed. She drew her pistol and, thanks to Major Swift's patient but intense and thorough instruction, fired into the eye of the behemoth.

This time his scream was deafening. Annika had heard of the term 'blood-curdling,' and now she understood precisely what it meant. Her entire body shivered and her blood seemed to not only run cold, but to flow unevenly through her body.

The Mercenary sagged to his knees, still bellowing and screaming. Unable to bear his agony any longer, Annika fired once more into his forehead, putting him out of his misery; and hers.

"You all right?" Ben called.

Annika looked at him and as he was drawing his cutlass from the belly of the last novice Mercenary and realised that she must look positively frightful. She could feel how pale she was, she was covered with thick cooling blood, and she was also shaking dreadfully.

She nodded. "Just adrenaline!" she called, but heard the lack of conviction in her suddenly high-pitched and thin voice. "Let's help Page!"

Page likely did not need help, as her steady barrage of bullets had weakened her enemy significantly, and the man was obviously no longer attempting to toy with her. Still, since Reaver could open another gate at any time, she and Ben did not dare to risk waiting for her to finish him off on her own. Ben nodded to Annika, but held her gaze a moment longer, clearly troubled, but then he nodded once more and in unison they rushed to Page's side.

As they drew their pistols, however, Page turned her head from side to side with a menacing glare.

"I've got him!" she snarled, and cocked her weapon for another shot. "He's mine, do you hear me?"

"Fine, let her have it her way," Ben said to Annika, shrugging. "I know her well enough to know when to pick my battles, eh?"

"Fine, but I hope she knows she's risking our skins!" the Princess retorted, warily eyeing the gates.

"And look, our lovely dark-skinned beauty manages to at long, long, long last take down the beast!" rang Reaver's smug voice from the balcony as the Mercenary finally crashed face-down onto the bloody tiles.

"Now, how shall they fare against beasts that are even more beastly than lowly Mercenaries? Hatch, the next gate, if you please."

"I knew it," Annika grumbled as over a dozen small and squat creatures rushed from behind the gate toward them. "Hobbes!"

The small creatures were as rotund, hideous, and varied as Annika remembered them. And just as smelly, repugnant, and dangerous.

"Two mages," she called out, "take them down first or they'll summon endless undead. Ben, help me with the mages! Page, please take out the two with uniforms and rifles! We all must try to dodge the rest for now." The smallest club-wielding Hobbes, though potentially deadly, were not nearly as much a threat as the mages and the ranged fighters.

Annika hoped that by saying 'please' she would engage Page's better side rather than her ill temper. Besides, the woman was skilled with her pistol and neither herself nor Ben would have to fret for her safety for a few minutes if they were lucky.

"Will do!" Page shouted, her eyes narrowed and her gaze determined. "Let's have at them!"

Annika and Ben locked eyes, and in silent communion, agreed to each rush one and take it down with a sword. That way, the blasted thing could not use the crystal atop its staff to fire electrical bolts or anything else equally as nasty at them.

Almost before she knew it, Annika's Hero's blood propelled her forward and she thrust the tip of her sword into the creature's throat. It was extremely quick and managed to parry her strike with its staff, but not well enough to keep the royal sword from cutting it badly.

Blood spurting copiously, it still attempted to summon undead.

"Hells, no!" Annika shouted, and punched it in the face with her left fist. It was like striking clay. "Ugh!" She pulled her fist back and scowled at the blood and mucous on it. Disgusting sloppy things, Hobbes!

With her peripheral vision she saw that Ben was faring rather well, though he had not wounded his target as much as she had hers. Page was firing as rapidly as she could at one of the rifled creatures, but it constantly did the manoeuvre that Annika hated the most; the twirling side-stepping motion that inexplicably kept it from being struck at all. Positively maddening!

Annika chuckled when she heard Page shout, "Damn you, you filthy creature! How do you do that?"

"Yes, not such formidable foes, are they?" Annika snarked to her, remembering the woman's earlier scepticism regarding how difficult the Princess found Hobbes to fight. "You'll have to fire quick shots in succession before it can recover and repeat that blasted manoeuvre!"

"Fine," Page snarled back. "I'll handle it!"

"You'd better," Annika muttered under her breath. She did not know why Page was particularly on her nerves this day, but she realised she had to keep her own temper in check or else risk not only her own life but those of her allies and the prisoners that hopefully were still alive somewhere in the manor.

She turned her mind completely back to the battle and was thankful that Hobbes were stupid. Cunning, yes, but not intelligent. The mage's instinct compelled it to continue trying to step back and use its staff to summon creatures to its aid, but it was not smart enough to use the staff as a weapon. That left the advantage all to Annika, as long as she was able to keep near it and attack with her sword.

Suddenly she was clubbed from behind and sent sprawling at the mage's feet. She had once again neglected to watch her own back!

"Stupid, stupid!" she cursed herself, desperately rolling to the side in an attempt to escape the loin-clothed Hobbe with the club. Three more were right behind it and she knew she had to recover quickly.

"I can't believe this!" she heard Ben yell. "The little bastards are as tough as you said!"

A quick glance showed her that Ben was surrounded by a handful of the small but powerful creatures. He was unable to focus entirely on the mage as he had to fend off repeated blows from clubs and hope to get in a lucky shot or sabre strike to his intended target every so often.

"Tell me about it!" she called back, regaining her footing. A surge of pure anger and loathing suffused her and she swung her sword as hard as she could. The world blurred for several long moments as her mind registered the fact that two of her attackers went flying; cleaved in half.

"Yes!" she shouted in glee, joyfully lunging back to the mage and this time driving her sword deep into its ugly and shocked face. If the situation had been less serious Annika would have laughed at its expression as it fell.

It collapsed in a heap of red-green blood and gore. She whirled and cleaved two more of the 'clubbers' in half. Suddenly, she realised that she was having a wonderful time. She had made an almost fatal mistake, but she had recovered and rallied, stronger than ever. A mage and four 'clubbers' within moments! Filled with pure delight and giddy with success, she looked at her comrades and quickly rushed to Ben.

"Take the mage, I'll get the little ones!" she shouted.

Page was continuing to fire at one of the rifle-shooters and was barely succeeding in dodging the bullets from the other. But since she was holding her own, Annika remained with Ben.

"Thank Avo!" Ben called to her with a grin. "I'll never doubt you again, Princess! I think I hate Hobbes more than Hollowmen now!"

"Use that!" Annika said with a grin. "I find that sometimes hate can be a wonderful ally in itself!"

"Agreed!"

Annika finished off the remaining 'clubbers' and Ben, since he was allowed to focus on the mage, finished it off with his sabre almost at once.

"I got one!" Page called over to them in pride. "I killed a rifle one!"

"I'll alert the Town Crier!" Annika muttered and Ben snickered.

"Don't let her hear you say that!"

"Well, we killed every Hobbe here except for one and she's all uppity over it?"

"Well, just remember that she isn't as experienced as we are. Besides, we're all in this together, right?"

Annika smiled sheepishly. "Yes, we are."

"So, let's help her finish the last one off, shall we?"

* * *

><p>So far all he had done was verbally question the Major, but of course Swift had given him nothing. For the time being, however, it did not matter. The Major would soon be of use whether he cooperated or not.<p>

Logan now stood in his dressing room and gazed at the portrait of his beloved Annika.

He knew she was in a battle, but he also knew that so far she was all right. But would she be all right later? Would she be all right when she had to... Choose?

Oh, he was certain that she would have to Choose. It would be a dreadful Choice, but better than no Choice at all. Still, what if she would fail in her earlier vow to love him come what may, and try to understand him? What if she could not comprehend or accept why he would have to do what had to be done, and likely very soon?

It was very inappropriate of him, he knew, but gazing at the semi-nude woman he loved more than Albion and even life itself, he found his hand straying toward the bulge in his trousers. He desperately needed her, not only for physical relief, but also the emotional and mental anguish he was suffering.

At the moment she was in battle, so she could not soothe and cloak him with her love and reassurance; but he could fantasize that she was with him for his more... basic needs.

He was staring up at the ceiling, not recalling laying down upon the bed, and his breeches were undone. His eyes squeezed shut and he could almost feel her, smell her, and for a moment he thought that the mattress dipped ever so slightly. Was Annika at rest for the moment?

"Touch me," he pleaded softly, and a ghostly double of her hand covered his as he stroked his painfully hard erection. "Love me," he added, his back arching as the sensations from her hand were so pleasurable that he pulled his own back.

Yes, he felt her, and felt her strongly. She was lovingly stroking his cock, teasing the tip, and then dipping down to gently cup his sac.

Logan was so desperate for relief that almost the moment 'Spirit Annika' took him into her sweet mouth he lost all control.

"Yes, Annika! Gods, yes!" His hoarse cry echoed from the walls as his seed spurted from his cock and splashed onto his belly. He gingerly touched it and felt it begin to cool almost at once. His love and need for her was not cooling, however. That would never happen. He could only hope that his fragile heart would hold out until the day he could be certain, absolutely certain, that his Annika was truly and unconditionally his; as he was already completely and forever hers.

"Please, love me, Annika! Please find it in your heart to Choose me; Choose Us!"

* * *

><p>"Yes, I Choose you and I Choose Us!" Annika cried out.<p>

Ben and Page were staring at her, wide-eyed and mouths agape. Annika started when she realised that she had taken a few moments after the final Hobbe fell to be with Logan as much as their Bond would allow. He needed her so badly that she could not help but answer. Almost as if it were a dream she remembered pleasuring him with her hand and her mouth, and as she was jerked back to Reaver's Arena she heard him pleading with her to love him and to Choose him. And all this just mere moments ago!

Her fists were clenched, her face flushed, she was panting, and she was licking her lips as if she were still tasting Logan's...

She had to stop thinking on it for now! She had cried out, but there was no way Ben and Page could realise what had just happened. It _had _happened, hadn't it? But of course it had! She and Logan were Bonded. He must be missing her dreadfully and needing her badly to summon a part of her if even only for a few moments.

"I'm fine!" she said tersely. "I just had a giddy moment is all." She glared up at Reaver, wanting to conclude this tedious but deadly business.

"Are we finished here? This grows tiresome!"

"Oh, my dear, I am seeing that I am likely correct about your true nature, but I still have to be certain. This will all end soon, I promise you. But how it will end is up to you. Hatch, the next gate!"

"You are a balls-out, crazy-arsed lunatic!" Ben shouted.

Reaver simply smirked. "I hope you enjoy this next round. I chose them just for you, Captain Finn."


	32. Chapter 32

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #32**

"Just bleedin' wonderful! I think I can guess what those will be," Ben said with a heavy sigh. "And I had hoped I'd seen the last of my share of them!"

Annika saw him sweating and shaking with anger and his jaw was clenched so tightly that the cords in his neck bulged.

"It's all right," she said as soothingly as she could. "After all, you're quite an expert with Hollowmen!"

"Ha! That I am!" he conceded and forced a smile.

"Hollowmen?" Page echoed, waving her pistol slowly from side to side as she edged closer to Annika and Ben. "You mean that there really are such things?"

"No," Ben replied, rolling his eyes, "We at Mourningwood Fort are just there to make the place look good!"

"On with the show!" Reaver called down to them. "Mr. Finn, I do hope you enjoy yourself! I think a good exercise regimen should not only be challenging, but oodles of fun!"

"Go sod yourself," Ben yelled back.

"Oh, no need for that!" the Deviant replied smoothly and with his characteristic smugness. "I have plenty of willing partners for such diversions!"

"Well, too bad I can't shove my sword..." Annika began, only to cut herself off with an irritated huff.

"Page," she said, "they are coming! Those blue lights swirling about? They are each a Hollowman! Go for the largest ones first as soon as they materialise; they'll spawn more if you don't take them down!"

"Ready yourselves right now!" Ben shouted.

He and Page raced to opposite ends of the room, leaving Annika to cover the middle. She was relieved that Ben realised how she wanted to keep her eye on each of them as easily as possible.

As she had known they would, the swirling lights soon swirled into groups and invariably went to each part of the room. Thankfully, the smallest group would be handled by Page.

"I can't believe this!" Page cried out as the lights coalesced into groups of undead, "I know now that they are indeed real, but..."

"Just shoot, and go for their heads!" Annika yelled. "Failing that, shoot their hands off so they can't use their weapons against you!"

"And whatever you do, keep moving!" Ben added. "Above all, don't allow yourself to be surrounded!"

"Got that!" Page yelled back.

Annika was strong enough to not worry over-much about the smaller Hollowmen that formed around her and began to charge. She saw the largest one, the type she had nick-named the "Big Helmeted Ones" and immediately began pumping bullets into its head. Thankfully the rest were typical Hollowmen with swords and sickles. She could take a few hits and be all right, and she knew that Ben could as well, but how would Page fare?

She cursed colourfully as she failed to kill the "Big Helmeted One" before it could spawn another group. Damnation, now she had over a dozen to finish off! A quick glance told her that Page was holding her own, but barely.

Page was fighting valiantly but was surrounded despite her best efforts. She furiously fought with her sword and was doing reasonably well, but the Large Helmet was spawning another group and she hadn't even managed to kill off half the ones bearing down on her.

Annika was not irritated or impatient with the woman despite their serious circumstances. Someone who had only ever dealt with living enemies or non-magical enemies would understandably be taken aback and shocked by undead. Sweat was pouring off the rebel leader in rivulets and her dark face was lightened by a pallor of horror and disgust. Well, afraid or not, Annika had to give her credit for fighting with all she had.

"Ben, help Page!" she shouted, her next shot blowing her target into pieces. She raced forward and drew her sword. She swung powerfully and cut down four with one slice. She rolled to one side and leapt to her feet to cut down several more. They never failed to surprise her with how brittle they were. Only the larger and more powerful Hollowmen were truly formidable. Why was that? Had they been accomplished fighters in life? Even so, how did they obtain the ability to spawn indefinite lesser ones every minute or so unless destroyed?

Botheration! Her mind had strayed. She felt a hard blow to her back, but thankfully she was strong enough to not be felled by it. Instead, she took the opportunity to crouch down and slice through the shins of another close to her. It fell to pieces, flailing its scythe, and she decapitated it swiftly as she regained her feet.

Ben had finished off the Large Helmet focussing on Page with his pistol and Annika took the opportunity to finish the remaining ones left over from Ben's corner. They were easy; just scythe-wielding zombies which stumbled about clumsily and aimlessly.

"Back into position!" she yelled as more blue lights formed out of the air and swirled about the room. How many of these things did Reaver have, and how in the hells did he get them into his mansion?

"I'll do better this time!" Page panted. "Sorry about that, you two!"

"Don't you worry your pretty head," Ben said. "We're all new dealing with Hollowmen at one time or another, eh?"

Page laughed humourlessly. "I suppose we are, at that. Anyway... thanks."

Annika was glad that Page was more optimistic, but she and Ben knew that the next waves of Hollowmen would be tougher. It just happened that way; first the piss-ants, and then more of the larger and more formidable ones would follow. Some actually seemed to have some semblance of intelligence, and those were the ones that would worry her; regarding Page, at any rate. She bit her lower lip to keep from reminding the woman of what to do. It would help none of them and only agitate the rebel leader.

"All right," Ben yelled, "Page, why don't you focus on the smaller ones and let me and Annika handle the Helmets?"

"Fine by me!" Page called back, surprising both of them. Neither had thought she would capitulate so easily. On the other hand, since undead clearly disturbed her, perhaps it was not all that surprising.

This time Page took the initiative as quickly as Annika and Ben; she rushed straight into the swarm of blue wisps just beginning to group near her and began swinging her sword. Ben rushed to cover her and Annika darted into her own designated group.

The moment a Helmet began to materialise Annika was ready with her sword. She grasped the pommel in both hands and knelt, then as soon as the Helmet solidified she drove it upward through its desiccated chin and into its skull. Black gore oozed from the corpse and flowed down her arms. Cold and thick, it coated her flesh. Rank and reeking from swamp-smell, it made her feel wonderful and empowered. She had never destroyed one with a single blow before!

The rest were easy, but to her dismay she had to take on most of Ben's as Page needed help once more. The rebel leader was doing well, but not well enough for only two fighters to support her. She was committing the common novice error of attempting to run away from them and shoot from a distance. The undead were clumsy, yes, but many were amazingly fast and agile. As quickly as Page ran she was not able to elude them.

"Don't be afraid of injury," Ben shouted at her, "not when your life is at stake!"

"Mind your own business, Finn!" Page retorted with irritation, but she clearly knew that Ben was right.

Annika turned her attention away from the woman to focus on the remaining of Ben's smaller ones. Ben swiftly brought down his Helmet just as it was about to spawn another force.

Annika rushed to aid Page but a familiar green glow caught her attention. She turned to face an impossible enemy; the deceased Lieutenant Simmons! How in the hells could he re-spawn after being destroyed at Mourningwood Fort in a shower of bones, slime, and guts?

"Damn it, Ben, it's Simmons!" she yelled. "Cover Page while I take him!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"I don't need..." Page began, but then reconsidered and silenced herself.

Annika didn't care enough to be curious as to Page's sudden loss of acerbic wit or attitude; she had to focus on Simmons. The massive monstrosity seemed to recognize her and it roared in fury. If it was indeed Simmons, it not only recognised her, but was furious with her! Still, the Princess wondered, how could it be Simmons?

Such questions had to be set aside, however, as she knew she had to catch her mind from straying and focus; truly focus. She stared intently into the deceased soldier's face and waited until he spawned his first group of minions. She had no choice but to charge him at once although she knew she would have to take a hit from a Blades spell. That was better than dying, however, so she raised her pistol and began firing round after round. If she didn't attack at her first opportunity she likely would never have another.

Ben and Page yelled encouragement to each other as they fought, and at one point Annika heard Ben shout her name.

"What?" she yelled back irritably, "I'm busy, Finn!" She was running now, dodging and weaving to avoid the minions and keep her eye on Simmons as the annoying creature disappeared only to reappear elsewhere and target her with his spell. It was his modus operandi, and it was a deadly one. Fail to note at once where he reappeared and one could count oneself dead within moments.

"We're getting overwhelmed here, Hero!"

"I'm a bit overwhelmed, myself! Be a man and fight, Finn! I'll be over in a minute!"

"Oh, will you now?" Reaver called down. "Looks like our rebel friends may be in a spot of trouble! Just a few zombies and they begin to falter? Tsk tsk!"

Annika's attention once again faltered as she found herself unable to block out the Deviant's taunt. Simmons came so close to striking her flush with a Blades spell that she knew she had to take him out soon or die. Reaver clearly had no intention of ending this 'game' until either they or the remainder of his creatures were destroyed.

"Focus!" she hissed to herself. She darted to the side, sweating so profusely that her pistol grip felt uneasy and unreliable. Still, she had to trust in the pistol and her grip. It also had to help that Ben and Page were taking on the rest of the undead. All she had to do was eliminate Simmons. She chuckled. Yes, _all _she had to do!

Simmons did his predictable vanishing act and Annika readied her weapon and figured that he would likely reappear behind her this time.

"Yes!" she shouted in triumph when he did indeed reappear where she had anticipated. She squeezed off a few deadly accurate shots to his head. Surely he would not last much longer!

"Annika!" Ben shouted, "a hand here?"

"Damn it, Ben!" she yelled, but stole a quick glance his way.

Then she gasped in dismay. How had it happened that two capable fighters were so surrounded by hordes of piss-ant Hollowmen that they were actually in danger? But in deadly danger they were. Her comrades had no less than twenty flailing away at them and a Helmet was ready to spawn even more.

"Sod it!" Now she had to resort to the one thing she had never wanted to utilise again. Well, unless there was a dire emergency, that is. Magic.

She passed her pistol from her right hand to her left and fired at Simmons while using her right to launch the most powerful Shock spell she could at the group surrounding her friends.

"Huzzah!" Ben yelled in triumph and relief as the horde closing in on him and which had borne Page to the floor were hit hard. Many shattered into shards of bone and the remnants went flying. Others were paralysed for a few moments, and best of all, the ones over Page fell backwards, clearing the way for her to scramble to her feet.

"We've got a handle on them now!" Ben shouted.

Annika turned her full attention back to Simmons. She dodged another Blades spell that came close to taking her head off her shoulders and knew that if she did not take Simmons out in the next few moments she would be too tired to continue fighting effectively. Dying in this place; well, dying period, was certainly not on her agenda.

She fired into his head again while cursing herself for marvelling at how much of the wall she could see through the enormous hole in his torso. The cannonball that had ended his life as a living man had hit him dead centre in more ways than one. She was preparing herself for another dodge, which would undoubtedly be sluggish, but fortunately help was there for her.

As she dodged and fired, two other bullets joined hers and finished Simmons off in an explosion of vile debris that sprayed them all.

Gasping, panting, and spitting out foul fluid, the three faced each other, grateful to be alive and hoping this had been their final battle.

"Well, well, well!" Reaver called out, "it would seem my estimation of your true nature was correct!"

"Yes, yes, I'm a Hero!" Annika spat, "are you happy and through with your games now?" A surge of anger so sudden and unexpected that she vaguely wondered if she was sharing it with Logan began to boil inside of her.

Reaver's aura, so pure before in its clarity and demonstrating how true he was to his own nature and morals, clouded ever so slightly at her words. Annika squinted. Yes, several patches of grey were forming around the edges.

"What are you so concerned about?" she asked him, tilting her head to study his aura more intently. "Are you afraid of something? I can plainly see that something is... troubling you."

Reaver turned around and said something low and guttural, but whatever it was it caused his guests to depart at once.

"My dear, you know nothing about me nor what I think or feel!" he finally replied.

"I beg to differ. I can see your aura and I clearly see that something is deeply unsettling you."

Annika was confident in her assessment. Perhaps the knowledge that Reaver could be disturbed or troubled would not do her or Logan much good, but the knowledge that something, anything, could disturb the Hero of Skill was comforting. He was human, after all, even if he was an extraordinary one.

"All you need to do to 'unsettle' me, and in a most pleasurable way, is to persuade your two friends to join me in a private party in my bed chamber. Hmm? What say you?"

"Damn you!" Page shouted. "Time for you to die, Deviant!" The rebel raised her pistol and fired point-blank at him.

Annika gasped at the audacity of the gesture, and also knew instantaneously that it was a futile one. Would he truly escape death for centuries only to die by one woman's ordinary pistol? Not bloody likely.

Reaver casually raised his walking stick and deflected the bullet. Smoking and impotent, it landed at Page's feet. The rebel seethed, her previous pallor gone and replaced by a flush of pure fury and hatred.

Annika almost snickered. Had Page really believed _she_ could kill him? The very thought of it was ludicrous. She doubted that even she herself could kill him.

"Page," she said, unable to keep mirth from her tone, "why don't you take him up on his offer? Perhaps you'll learn a thing or two!"

By Page's glare she knew she had erred. She had teasingly meant that she could learn something useful for the Revolution; she had not meant it as a sexual innuendo!

"Indeed you can, my dear rebel beauty!" Reaver said, winking. "Care to find out? Or you, Finn? Hmm? My offer is good for another five seconds only!"

"Take that stick and shove it up your arse!" Ben retorted hotly. He was as angry as Page.

Reaver chuckled and began to turn away. "Offer officially closed! Now, if you care to take me up on my incredible generosity even in the face of your ill manners, you will leave my house at once. Failure to do so will be rewarded accordingly."

"Not until you free our friends!" Annika cried out. "Reaver, free the rebels and then we'll go!"

"My dear, for you I shall... consider it."

"You'd better consider it fast!" Ben said, gripping his pistol.

Annika jerked her head toward him in surprise. "Ben!" she hissed, "don't push it! He's the Hero of Skill!"

"My arse," he said. He raised his own pistol, but before he could even aim Reaver spun and fired, striking the soldier in his thigh.

Ben cried out and clutched his leg and Annika shrieked in rage. She raised her hand to summon her Will but Reaver held up his hands in mock surrender. Or was it not so mocking? A fleeting look of concern crossed his usually placid features, but he quickly recovered his poise.

"My dear, here is the key. They are in a room downstairs. You are all lucky that I did not kill young man Finn here." The Deviant tossed a key to Annika who caught it in her fist. "Take your stinking rebels and go. Now."

"This is not over, Reaver!" Page shouted in rage, unable to accept that he was simply going to walk away.

"Oh, but indeed it is, my pretty. Have sweet dreams.. of me. Tatty-bye!"

The Deviant disappeared from view.

* * *

><p>The three left the mansion with the handful of freed rebels in their wake.<p>

"Kidd, take the men back to base," Page said. "And hurry yourselves! We've no time to lose."

Kidd obeyed at once and he and the men disappeared into the night.

"What about us?" Annika asked. "I don't think Ben and I should return with you. It's too risky." She put a hand on the soldier's arm. "How's that leg?"

"Not as bad as I feared," he admitted with relief. "Reaver just wanted to get a rise out of me, is all. He just grazed me. Still hurts like the hells, though!"

"I'm sorry about that," Page said, her voice softening. "Ben, I'm glad you're all right, and you, too, Annika. If it wasn't for you, my men would be dead, and likely I would be, too."

Annika smiled wryly. "Well, I think enough of your life that I actually got myself something I really hate."

"Oh?"

"This," Annika said, holding out her left wrist and turning it over. A thin blue line curved along the base of her wrist and reached her forearm. "A Will line. I hate those and that's why I don't like to use magic. I don't want to end up looking like a freak!"

"That is amazing!" Page touched the mark gently. "I can see why you don't like it, but in itself it is lovely."

"Well, not if your entire body is covered with them as my mother's was. That last blast for you gave me this one."

"Hmm... a badge of honour!" Ben said with a laugh.

"I suppose I could look at it that way," Annika replied with a genuine smile. "Or, I can get it tattooed over with flesh-coloured ink like I did my last one."

"Anyway, we really should get going," Page said. "And Ben, get some treatment for that wound. It wouldn't do to have you die of an infection after surviving all we did."

"Nah, it wouldn't. Besides, I know you need me around to needle, don't you?"

Page cracked a rare smile. "True enough. By the way, wait for me to contact you two before we meet again."

The trio exited the gate to Reaver's manor. The Princess suddenly stopped as an icy shudder shot along her spine.

"Annika?" Page asked, putting her hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"I sense something, Page. Something isn't right."

An uncomfortable tingling prickled along the back of Annika's neck now. "Ben, hurry on to Industrial, right now! Go the the Shelter and speak to a woman named Linda. Quickly, now!"

She looked up and saw two purple-vested soldiers coming down the path toward them.

"Trouble!" she hissed. "Ben, run! Page, you'd better run with him!"

Ben sprinted off as fast as he could manage into the darkness but Page refused to budge.

"I'm not afraid of any soldiers, and I'm not about to run from them now."

"This isn't the time to be stubborn!" Annika snapped. "Those aren't the normal soldiers, Page; those are Logan's special troops! If they are here it means trouble for certain!"

"I'll risk it," Page said stoically. "Now, are you going to stand by me or not?"

"If you mean am I going to run, then no."

"Good."

The soldiers stopped in front of them. "King Logan has requested your presence at the Castle," said the first man.

Annika quirked a brow. "Oh? And do you know who we are?"

"Yes, Princess, we know very well who you are. With all due respect, Your Highness, please come along. King Logan is waiting for you."

"Very well, then," Annika replied as calmly as she could. The auras of the two men were untroubled, so it was likely that whatever Logan wanted from her and Page was unknown to them, or perhaps he meant them no harm.

However, that seemed unlikely in part, and in no small part, at that. Logan meant _her _no harm, but Page was a labelled traitor whose face was plastered on posters all over the city. This could not bode well for her.

"Page," she said softly, "I can handle them if you want to make an escape. This cannot be a good thing for you. Logan would never hurt me, but you are an entirely different matter."

"I don't run from anyone," Page said defiantly, but Annika saw the slightest trembling in the line of her jaw.

"All right, if you are certain," she whispered. She took Page's hand and looked at the guards.

"We're ready to go."


	33. Chapter 33

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**Chapter #33**

The face of the man sleeping was rugged, handsome, and mischievously boyish even in his repose. Less so than when he was awake, of course, Linda thought, but still all of those things. His tousled and unruly blond hair enhanced the charm he exuded so naturally; not that she looked forward to experiencing his charm. She loved Elliot, after all.

Didn't she?

Yes, she did, she affirmed to herself. She had loved Elliot for quite some time. Only since his rescue had she been wondering if he truly still loved her. He was the life-giving water she so desperately needed to bud and flourish each time she came dangerously close to giving up on her dream. Before he arrived, she had almost abandoned all hope that she could keep the Shelter open, much less properly care for those who needed it.

When Elliot had come into her life he had been another cast-off of King Logan's. Another lost and wandering soul, he was, and she saw so many every day. Time had passed; how much she did not know. But after what had seemed an eternity of mechanical purposefulness in diligent care to others, she had begun to remember that she was a human being, too. She was a woman and she had dreams, longings, and desires beyond those of helping others.

Helping those in need was her purpose, she felt, and she had no regrets. She wanted, now and for the rest of her life, to be of service to those in need. However, with the threat of Reaver and his industrial expansionism ever looming, the harassment of criminals like Ferret, and the unending droves of ever more people driven from their homes due to King Logan's harsh taxes and policies, her dreams felt more like nightmarish and helpless inevitabilities.

As Elliot had begun to assist her with the mundane tasks in the Shelter/Orphanage he had slowly come to see the place as she did; a refuge for the helpless and the homeless and not merely an old building filled with 'undesirables' or 'the unwanted.' It was a haven for the elderly and the ill, and a new beginning for the orphaned. He had come to see more than just the physical labour involved in keeping the place open and operating, he had come to see the people behind the dirty and tired faces. He had seen the hope and joy in the orphans whenever one of them found a new family.

He had begun to see her as a woman, and, to her amazement, a woman he could love. She had wondered how he could ever see her as such, for he clearly was of much higher birth than she, and she often glimpsed in him the assumptions and attitudes she had, all to often, observed in the rich. Elliot had, when he first arrived, been unable to help but betray his distaste at the touch of less than pristine bedding, the simple and sometimes not thoroughly cleaned foods, the lack of enough soap, the over-abundance of dirt, and the bare minimum of clothing to provide.

Tending to the sick had frightened and appalled him, so she had excused him from those duties, completely understanding that his upbringing rendered him helpless to feel otherwise. But one day, while she tenderly dabbed the wrinkled and careworn face of an elderly woman, a soft white pair of hands took the cloth from her, wrung it out in the bucket and freshened it with cold clean water.

Elliot had come to help her, and he had not cast his eyes upon the old woman with distaste or fear, but with compassion. And he had looked at _her_ with admiration and something else which she could not identify. At the time she had not dared to hope it could have been anything more than friendship and esteem.

That night at dinner he had tentatively held her hand as he seated her, his lovely large dark brown eyes shyly drifting down to study his shoes. His long black lashes swept his cheeks and kept any expression in his eyes hidden from her, but still, he was as beautiful and pure as a newborn deer. That was how she thought of him then, a deer; skittish and timid, curious and cautious by turn. But ever lovely, needful, yet also stronger than he appeared.

He had a secret, she knew. He had opened himself to her and rendered himself vulnerable, yet kept some great secret in his heart. Linda knew that she would likely never know what that one secret was, but she loved him so much that she would allow him his secret. After all, didn't everyone have secrets, and didn't everyone deserve to begin with a clean slate now and again?

Elliot had changed after his rescue by the Hero. He was as loving as ever, but something had altered in his affections. He was almost too caring, too solicitous, and he worked too hard. The lush silken lips that kissed hers also trembled with things unsaid; things dark and troubling. The eyes which had always been filled with tenderness and purpose now flickered with doubt and something that almost appeared to be a desire to flee.

Linda knew he had been through a hellish ordeal. He hadn't known whether he would emerge from it unscathed, much less alive. Still, he behaved as if his every word could be his undoing, or hers. But at the same time, he exuded a strange confidence; not the confidence he had developed through learning how to care for himself and others, but a confidence that he could, perhaps, reclaim the life King Logan had taken from him. And perhaps, she feared, also reclaim the one whose name he occasionally unintelligibly uttered in his sleep?

But that was impossible, wasn't it? Linda swallowed thickly and tears pricked her eyes at the thoughts that niggled at the back of her mind. If Elliot could reclaim what had once been his, would he leave her behind? Would his sweet words of love and his promises of a life together come to naught? Unbidden, an image of a fragile glass vase with dying flowers came to her mind, and she blinked away the tears that began to form at the sad and lonely vision.

Elliot would speak to her in time; she had to believe that. But the aching dread in her heart that vindictively whispered that she was no longer good enough for him tormented her every moment. But the love he had professed to her, the offer of marriage... could all that be fragile enough to be rent asunder by a single ordeal, no matter how horrific?

She sighed and gazed down at Ben Finn, the friend of the Hero. His wound was not serious, but he was clearly exhausted, hungry, and though he staunchly refused to admit it, frightened. He had informed her that the Hero Annika had instructed him to seek sanctuary at the Shelter as now he was a fugitive and likely been branded a traitor by the King.

Linda had gladly taken him in. As she had tended to his needs he had flirted with her shamelessly. She had laughed for the first time in days. Of course this man was obviously a natural flirt, but damn him, he was a charming one! She found herself, within minutes, responding to his amiable manner and sparkling wit. He clearly was not a man who allowed circumstances, no matter how dire, to keep him down for long. He had a strong spirit and an implacable optimism.

It had been a long time since Linda had met someone like him. Even Elliot did not have the wit, optimism, and inner strength that Ben Finn possessed. However, Elliot was loyal, constant, and relatively predictable, all traits that pleased her. He was not one to knock boots with every bar maid that crossed his path.

The soldier had, as she tucked him into an available bed, kissed her hand in an exaggeratedly courtly manner, playfully called her his 'beautiful and beneficent saviour' and fell asleep with a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.

Linda smiled as she gazed down at him. He was a handsome one, no doubt of that, and on the morrow would likely have every woman in the Shelter swooning at his feet! Well, let him! The place could use the cheer he would bring.

She only hoped that some spark of cheer would return to her Elliot.

* * *

><p>Annika was not only displeased but annoyed with Logan. He had summoned her and Page to the Castle, so why wasn't he speaking with them, or at least her?<p>

She was in her former bed chamber and was tending to her own toilet and change of clothing. Page had been taken to adjoining rooms, presumably to be cleaned and allowed to change into either more appropriate or more comfortable attire.

Did Logan have something very serious in mind involving her and Page? Was that why he was taking his time before seeing her? Last time he hadn't wasted a moment before embracing, kissing, and taking... liberties with her. Now she was kept waiting? Why?

She was no fool, and she knew that being here did not bode well for Page, and perhaps not for her, either. Logan would never harm her, but would he harm Page? If so, why was she summoned as well? Logan was the King and she was not. He made the life and death decisions as well as all other decisions regarding Albion. Did he need her help or advice? If he just wanted or needed to be with her, he would not have had soldiers escort her along with an accused traitor from Millfields to Bowerstone Castle.

She had not had even a glimpse of Logan since she had entered the Castle, and the War Room doors were closed and locked, so he was obviously in conference.

Page was afraid, and Annika was, too. The woman she did not entirely like was still one she had come to respect, and to some degree, even admire. Page had tremendous potential to be an invaluable asset to Albion, and, as to her surprise, a not completely unpleasant person to be around. She was beginning to see in her what Ben Finn saw; a spirited young woman with passion for her cause and a fire in her belly that would help her win that cause.

She and Page were, technically, both traitors, and Logan could have them executed. Of course he would never kill or harm her, his beloved; but Page? Annika shuddered and gazed at her face in the looking glass. The pale and gaunt visage that stared back at her was an unsettling twin. The face of both a frightened and frightening doll stared back at her with a melancholy expression that also held an underlying menace.

What would she do if Logan imprisoned or harmed Page? Was that why she was here, to help him come to a solution that would not endanger their love?

She parted her lips and the doll's image parted hers. She blinked her eyes and the eyes that mimicked the gesture glittered dangerously.

Annika swallowed, closed her eyes, and backed away from the glass. She could not and would not stop loving Logan regardless of what he would or would not do. But an eerie sensation that prickled and danced uneasily over her skin told her that Logan feared her dreadfully, and not for anything she would do to seize his power, but that she would withdraw her love. Would he also fear whatever was lurking inside her; that melancholy yet menacing _something _that normally hid itself behind what Logan called her 'emerald gaze?'

Why did he still not trust her? Her love was constant. However, she reasoned, Logan was the King and the dead weight of difficult and unrelenting decisions and choices was his burden every hour of every day. Surely insecurity over the one good and wondrous thing he had, her love, was something he would understandably fret over.

There was nothing to be gained by trying to puzzle things out now. She would change into something lovely and suitable for a meeting with Albion's King and await her summons.

* * *

><p>The former Major Swift, now demoted to Captain Swift, lay in his cell atop a pile of filthy straw and a blanket. He wasn't certain how he felt at this moment. He knew that something was afoot in the Castle, for the sounds above him of scurrying guards and servants could only mean that the King had either a Proclamation to make, serious decisions to make, or else he was receiving important guests.<p>

Likely he had a serious decision to make and would make it publicly in order to instil awe and fear. That was how Logan did things. That was how he handled his ruler-ship.

Swift did carry a measure of pride in that he had given Logan no information. He had not betrayed the Princess nor the Underground. He had endured the beatings of Logan's men, and when those failed, Logan denied him food and water. He refused to ponder why Logan did not have him more brutally tortured. Would he have been able to hold his tongue for long in such a case?

Swift closed his eyes in the darkness and sighed. He did not want to know. He could scarcely bear one hour, and for the past several interminable days, only one minute, at a time.

Suddenly he found himself sitting upright. Something in the very air was different, and his very spirit resonated with its alien presence; something very powerful, frightening, melancholy, yet tinged with love and hope. Something was wrong, or was it right? Or merely... different? He only had the hunches of a seasoned old soldier, but he knew deep in his gut that something very Fateful would be decided this day. His hunch covertly whispered that it would also involve him.


	34. Chapter 34

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**#34**

"About bloody time!" Annika grumbled as a knock sounded on her door. She opened it to see two of Logan's guards.

Then guards bowed deeply, and when they straightened one of them spoke.

"Princess Annika, King Logan requests the honour of your presence..."

"I know," she snapped irritably. "Let's just get the hells to the Throne Room!"

She closed her chamber door and walked before the guards. A twinge of regret at her churlishness niggled at her, but she had been kept waiting for hours. Her Bond with Logan let her know that they needed to see each other even if the circumstances were less than ideal.

Logan was not calling upon her for anything pleasant; she knew that much. Now was one of the times he had warned her about. Now was one of the times where he had begged her to remain steadfast, love him no matter what he said or did, and above all, try to understand and not judge him harshly.

So, this would be their first real test. This would be one of the Trials on the strength of their Love.

She sighed and swallowed thickly. She knew with absolute certainty that she would love Logan no matter what, but still, what would they have to Sacrifice today? There would most certainly be a Sacrifice, she had no doubt. Logan had a policy to decree, or a judgement to carry out, or...

She shook her head wildly for a moment in frustration and heard the clanking footfalls of the guards behind her falter. They were worried, and justifiably so. If she was harmed or he even thought she was harmed, she knew that Logan would not hesitate to punish them. Or execute them. Or both.

Annika strode into the Throne Room and stopped. To her left were more guards and a handful of common folk. To her right were approximately a dozen noblemen and noblewomen. She never could help but smirk whenever she saw the nobles. They never failed to defy all sense of good taste by donning large and gaudy wigs and drape themselves with overly bright colours and bolts of fabric in the most awkward of styles.

She herself was clothed in a fine lavender gown with a simple cut. She had forsworn long day-sleeves in favour of evening-style strap sleeves and her neckline was low, but not indecently so. Annika wanted to appear regal and lovely, yet respectable and a woman who could be taken seriously before and by Albion's King. Her curling red hair was long and loose save for a purple ribbon that tied the sides back and off her neck. Logan had always adored her hair long rather than in an up-do.

About her throat she wore a golden chain with a tiny flask that contained some of Logan's blood. She had never forgotten his intimate gifts to her when she had fled the Castle and had vowed to, on appropriate occasions, keep one or more on her person.

Now, more than ever, she was glad she had. No-one would be able to see into the flask as it was gold and concealed what was inside, but simply the knowledge that she carried a part of him with her during what would certainly be a difficult time was comforting. She had not yet sneaked a peek ahead of her to see him, and already she felt his presence envelope her. Love, fear, protectiveness, pain, anger, sadness, and raw terror shot into her very heart. Her breath was momentarily stolen from her and her lips parted in a silent desperate gasp.

The Bond. Logan had needed her very breath! But why?

Annika slowly raised her head and looked searchingly down the long aisle that would lead her to her Logan; her King. And she feared what she saw. His aura was a terrible and forbidding myriad of colours, and she resolutely shut out the sight of them. She did not want to see the colours; she knew how he felt. But his face, his body...

She had never seen him look more pallid and gaunt, yet more determined and fierce, than he did at this very moment.

"Come closer," he said, and she heard him so clearly that she was taken aback. It was only then that she realised how utterly quiet the room was. Not a sound save for breathing rent the air. Everyone was deathly still and silent. Curiosity and fear enveloped every inch of the room and no-one was immune. Not even Logan.

Her formal slippers brush-swept across the carpet as she slowly approached him, their eyes locking and unblinking. The scuffing sounded in her ears as a disrespectful scraping, but she was unable to silence her footfalls.

Annika's body suddenly was not entirely under her own command as she walked a little further. Logan's eyes and his will beckoned her to him, and she approached him freely and of her own accord. Her shoes silenced themselves as she felt herself almost float to him as if she were a wraith. His Need was so great, his Desperation so palpable, his Love so strong that she could not, would not, resist him now. Their First Test was immanent.

Logan's eyes glittered and shone with love and unshed tears, but to everyone save her, she knew they appeared filled with determination and, perhaps, even malice.

She drifted closer and closer, waiting for him to stop her with an upraised hand, or perhaps, a spoken command, but he did not. And none said a word as the King beckoned her so closely that when he stopped her at last with the barest raising of a finger she was scarcely three feet from him. The guards beside the Throne did not move. Still as statues, only their eyes betrayed them as living beings.

"Annika, I have been waiting for you," Logan said softly.

"I am here," she replied, equally as softly.

"Yes."

His hands gripped the arms of the Throne so tightly that she heard the wood creak. Their shared gaze remained unbroken.

"Today I must hold you and two traitors to the Crown, and thus, Albion, accountable."

"Punishment must be apportioned?" Her heart beat as wildly as a trapped bird's wings, but strangely, she felt no fear. However, the moment that thought flitted through her mind she knew why she was unafraid. She was unafraid because she knew that Logan would give her a Choice. Logan was not going to perform a very serious action without her knowledge and, however it could be construed, her assistance.

"Indeed, but also actions are to be rewarded." His deep sonorous voice resonated off the walls and the high ceiling. Still, utter silence save for the two of them reigned supreme in the room. His voice was thus both comforting and forbidding. What did all present but she not know?

"You are the Hero of Brightwall, and you are also Albion's Princess. You have earned the trust and goodwill of many. For that you are to be commended, and I shall reward you accordingly."

Annika swallowed as she saw his eyes fill with pain. It was only for a moment, but she had seen. Her reward would be something he was dreadfully afraid of. It would rend his heart, he feared. He could lose her even as he did his best to include her and appease her. He was certain of these things, she knew.

She tried to tell him with her eyes and voice that he need not fear, but he spoke on before she could make the attempt.

"Remain facing me as I have the two traitors brought before us," he said. Still, he did not release her from his gaze and his will.

Annika allowed this even as dread began to creep coldly and malevolently along her entire body. Perversely, even her nipples hardened as the chill stole over every inch of her flesh. She hoped that her gown did not reveal this embarrassment. She involuntarily flicked her tongue over her lips. It caught for a moment. Her lips had gone utterly dry. Fear finally manifested itself in her.

Logan now broke their gaze to address the guards at the door.

"Bring them in!"

* * *

><p>"Bother!" Linda struggled to carry the heavy crate of foodstuffs into the kitchen. It was the fifth crate she had lugged in and she was exhausted. However, she was grateful that she had so much food to have on hand for the Shelter. She could feed people for a week! The shopkeepers had been very generous lately, as the economy was solid.<p>

"Here, allow me!"

Ben Finn appeared from nowhere and effortlessly swept the crate from her aching arms. "Why didn't you ask me for help?" He deposited the crate beside the others and turned to her with a frown. "I know you are short-handed here, but such heavy lifting will only get you hurt, and then where would you be?"

She sighed, knowing he had a point. "You're right, of course. Elliot usually helps me with the lifting and he's been... well..." She stopped and blushed in shame. She had no idea where he was! He had been missing for days. All she had was a note from him delivered by a street urchin which told her that he would return soon and to not fear for him.

"He's been what, or where?" Ben asked.

Linda could not formulate a reply. She was embarrassed and almost sick with worry that he might be with another woman. Perhaps he was considering a woman who was of higher birth and did not require the gruelling physical labour from him that maintaining the Shelter required.

"I'm sorry. He's the bloke you're engaged to, right?"

Linda nodded but still did not look into the soldier's face.

"Do you fear he's happened upon misadventure?"

"Oh, no!" Linda's eyes involuntarily flew to meet his, and she wondered now if that could be the case. "Do you think he might have done?"

"Don't think so," Ben replied. "His type usually don't." He winced and then offered a sheepish grin. "What I mean is, rich types, or former rich types, usually don't happen upon trouble unless they're stupid. I don't think your Elliot is stupid."

"Then where do you think he could be?" Linda knew that she should not burden this young man with her troubles, but he was so friendly and helpful that she could not help but take comfort in sharing some of her concerns with him.

He shrugged. "To be honest, I haven't the faintest idea. I don't think he's in trouble, though. Lots of times men just have to go off and be alone for awhile."

"Why? Do you think he no longer lo... I mean, do you think he is no longer content to be here?"

Ben's eyes narrowed in thought and Linda feared he knew that she was not asking the question she meant but could not voice.

"You're afraid he's off with another woman, aren't you?"

If this had come from anyone else, Linda would have been offended, but from Ben, she didn't feel that way. Strangely, she knew that this soldier, the woman-chaser he was, was truly fond of her and sympathetic to her feelings.

"Well, if he is he's a right fool," Ben continued.

"Coming from you?" Linda couldn't help but be cynical of his remark despite her liking for the young man.

He chuckled. "Even coming from me!" He put a friendly hand on her shoulder. "Look, I may be fond of the ladies, but that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate a real quality one. Besides, do you think I intend to spend the rest of my life as Albion's most desirable man? 'Tis a demanding job, milady!"

Linda laughed. His remark was meant to be purely jocular and he was obviously trying to lighten her mood. He was succeeding, too!

"I would never say that _you_ are the most desirable man in Albion!"

He put a hand over his heart and screwed his features into an exaggeratedly hurt expression. "Oh, fair lady, you wound me! I'll have you know that many ladies have fallen into my arms in a swoon at the very sight of me!"

"I don't doubt that!" Linda replied, then gasped when she realised what she had just admitted. Ben sucked in a breath of surprise, but he recovered more quickly and spoke on, obviously eager to ease her embarrassment.

"You see? Even a ruggedly handsome man like me has to think of more than just fun and flirtation now and again."

"Well, there are more crates to be carried in, and those will be heavier," she said, her blush deeper than before. "Will that help you think of things other than fun and flirtation?"

"You bet. Where do you need them?"

"Are you sure your leg is strong enough?"

"Carrying a few crates won't open my wound, I promise," he said, flashing her his most charming boyish grin.

Linda smiled, feeling better. "The laundry," she replied.

"I'm on it." He turned to leave.

"Ben... Thank you."

He stopped and turned back to face her. "No thanks necessary. I'm happy to help."

She believed him. Her spirits lifted a little; not much, but enough that she knew she could make it through this day without breaking down and crying in private. She had known that Ben Finn would raise the spirits of everyone in the Shelter, but she had never anticipated that he would be able to raise hers.

* * *

><p>Annika's heart pounded so furiously that the blood roared in her ears. She barely heard the sound of people entering the room. Logan had instructed her to not turn around as they were brought in, and she was obeying him. It was more difficult by the moment, as she feared that Page was one of them.<p>

"Princess Annika, otherwise known as the Hero of Brightwall, behind you are two traitors to Albion. Both are proven traitors and no trial is necessary. I have more than enough evidence to have them both executed. However, as a reward for your efforts and deeds of late, I am granting you the privilege of speaking on their behalf, and perhaps, just perhaps, sparing one of them."

Her breathing came in short rasping pants and she saw Logan's eyes flick to her face in concern. She knew she had paled. She was bitterly cold all over and the dread that had crept over her body earlier had now seeped inside her to chill her very bones. It did not help that she was also beginning to feel quite ill.

"Turn around and look upon them," Logan said, obviously realising he could not save her from what was coming.

Her legs unsteady, ears ringing, and vision blurring, she obeyed.

And wished to the gods that she could have been spared.


	35. Chapter 35

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**#35**

_My dearest Linda,_

_I cannot express in mere words how sorry I am that I cannot say this to you in person as you deserve. You are one of the most amazing women I have ever known, and I am better for having known you. However, after pondering for several long agonising days and sleepless nights, I now know that I cannot be the man for you that I wish to be, nor can I be the man you deserve._

_As for myself, the truth behind my actions of late are both painful and liberating. The Hero who rescued me is the Princess Annika; also known as the Hero of Brightwall. _

_I never told you, after she rescued me from Ferret, that we knew each other, but I felt it necessary at the time to keep you shrouded in blissful ignorance. Annika is my childhood sweetheart and the love of my life. It was solely to keep us apart that King Logan seized my home and lands and banished me. As you can imagine, our hearts were torn asunder, and when we had no news of the other, neither of us knew if the other even still drew breath._

_I love you, Linda, and I always will, but Annika is the love of my life, and I cannot love you as you deserve now that she and I have found each other again. _

_Perhaps you and I never would have been truly happy. As much as I did love and do still care for you, I would never be able to truly surrender my heart to you. I also wonder if our situations of birth would have eventually caused a divide between us. Annika and I were both born at Court and have so much more in common to add to our chances of future happiness._

_It is my fondest hope that not only will you be able to forgive me some day, but that you will also find true love with a man who is worthy of you._

_With warmest regards,_

_Elliot_

Linda sat at her desk in disbelieving silence. How could she put into words, even in her own mind, how she would feel when the meaning of the letter's contents truly filled her heart and mind? Relieved that Elliot was all right? Angry with him for his betrayal of her heart? Pleased for him that he had found his lost love?

Perhaps she would feel all of those things. For the moment, however, she found herself dropping the letter to the floor and allowed her head to sink upon her folded arms.

The sound of desolate weeping filled the room and she knew that she was the source. She fervently hoped that nobody would pass by her room and hear her. She had to be strong, not only for herself, but for all those in the Shelter who depended upon her.

This one time, for a few stolen minutes, she would allow herself to weep for the future she would never have. And then, as usual, she would have to rise and see to dinner.

But not just yet. To be strong, one also had to allow oneself to be vulnerable at times.

* * *

><p>Page stood as bravely as her violently shaking legs would allow her. She had known in the depths of her mind and gut that Annika had been correct in advising her against going to the Palace. But no, she had to prove herself bold and fearless. She had to prove to herself and everyone else that she was not afraid of any soldier or even of the King. She had willingly and brazenly allowed herself to be taken to the Castle along with Annika and hope for the best.<p>

But what had she hoped for? Had she hoped that King Logan only wished to see his sister, as she had never once expressed or betrayed any fear of him? Had she hoped that she could actually reason with the King, with Annika as her back-up, and improve the lot of the People?

It became obvious very quickly when she and the Princess were separated that the King would allow for no such thing. She had had been taken to what was referred to as a 'Visiting Chamber' and assisted with a bath and a change of clothes.

Page had soon found herself wearing an impractical but lovely day gown of yellow satin with blue trim. It had not escaped her ears when one maid whispered to another that the colour symbolised not only joy and happiness but also the reverse; betrayal, cowardice, and deceit.

King Logan must have chosen this colour purposefully. As Annika had once told her; Logan never did anything without a reason.

However, she was perplexed as to why she would be so elegantly presented. Typically the King would have his prisoners presented to him in the well-known and dreaded 'Prison Whites.' So why was she not wearing them?

Perhaps because there was hope for her, and therefore, hope for the People? Hmph, not bloody likely, she thought. The rotten bastard who called himself a King was nothing but a miserable tyrant who took pleasure in the suffering of his own People. Still, Annika plainly loved him. Did she love him because they were siblings, or was there some redeeming characteristics in the King that only she was privy to?

As the two guards escorted her to the Throne Room and walked her inside, she saw the Princess standing very close to the King. The two were apparently locking eyes, as Annika did not turn around. She did however, tremble and sway ever so slightly on her feet, so she was plainly uneasy.

Then Page heard the approach of several people to her left. She glanced over and saw Major Swift in full dress uniform under the close scrutiny of two guards. What was he doing here? His eyes flicked to her and she saw that he obviously wondered the same thing.

What in the hells was happening?

* * *

><p>After days of beatings, starvation, and a whipping that he did not know how he had endured, Swift stood in the Throne Room wearing his dress uniform. He had given his interrogators nothing, and in return they had given him no quarter.<p>

Today, however, everything suddenly changed. He had been removed from his cell and escorted to a room where he had been presented with a hearty meal and fine drink. He had then had the assistance of two valets in bathing and dressing, and now he was standing before the King and the Princess. There was no possibility that he looked his best as he had lost weight, sported cuts and bruises all over his body, including his face, but he was clean, groomed, and uniformed. The military commander in him, not to mention the gentleman, hoped that he looked, at the very least, presentable.

Princess Annika stood before her brother, her back to all in the room save the King, but he could see her trembling and sensed that she was afraid. Swift could scarcely believe that she was present. She and Logan, as much as he did not like the true nature of their relationship, were together in this room where all the royal decisions were made? Logan, who loved his sister as devotedly as she loved him, if Annika was not deceived, would actually force her to witness his sentencing and execution? Surely the King knew that he and the Princess had become close whilst together in Mourningwood; would he actually cause her pain by forcing her to watch him die? And what of Page? Would she also be forced to watch her die as well?

Annika's pleading last words to him rang in his mind and now he knew that he should have heeded her desperate advice. She had begged him not to report to her brother. She had known that he would be caught trying to obtain information. She had, without a single shred of doubt, _known. _Now where was he? He was a proven traitor and a spy and could do no-one any good; not any more. He was as good as dead; just as Annika had known he would be.

Her face had been so pale, so frightened, and her entire demeanour so filled with terror that he had done his best to assure her that all would be well. He had been so wrong.

Or had he? Was her presence an indication that perhaps not all was lost? Would Annika be able to plead on his and Page's behalf? However, even if she could, and even if Logan listened, wouldn't he and Page both be useless now that their crimes had been proven and their identities, not to mention their very selves, were present in the Castle?

The Princess who had become as a daughter to him stood close to the King, still not seeing himself nor Page, who had been escorted into the room just before he had. He saw Annika briefly hug herself to stifle a shiver, but quickly re-assume an upright and regal posture. She was dreadfully afraid.

Swift felt that she was correct to be. He sensed it in the very air. Menace and death lurked in every square inch of the room while dread mixed with the possibility of hope dodged and weaved through the air as if taunting him.

* * *

><p>"No-one utter a word," Logan announced as Annika took in the scene before her. "Only the Princess and I shall be allowed to speak until I say otherwise."<p>

Annika's throat was tight and her chest painfully constricted. Her frame trembled and terror enveloped her so utterly that for a few moments she was incapable of coherent thought.

"Before you and I, Sister, are two traitors to Albion. Their guilt has been proven beyond the slightest doubt. One is a man who has sworn an oath of allegiance to Albion and its ruler and has betrayed that oath in the most heinous of ways, and thus is guilty of the crime of High Treason. The other is a citizen unique in her importance for her ability to organise the rabble and incite violence and disorder."

Annika heard Logan stand, then slowly and deliberately descend the Throne and take the several steps required to bring him immediately behind her. She stood waiting, ashen-faced and trembling. She felt him gently but firmly place his gloved hand on her right shoulder and continue to speak.

"You are acquainted with them both, Princess Annika, otherwise known as 'The Hero of Brightwall.' More so than I you know their strengths and weaknesses, the way their minds work, what skills they possess, and of what worth they have to Albion."

Annika swallowed thickly and Logan allowed her to gather her thoughts. She could not keep herself from studying Swift and Page to observe their auras. Page was terribly frightened, but showed a determination to bear whatever was in store for her with dignity. The only thing that disturbed Annika about the woman was the red-orange flashes of pure hatred that suddenly emanated from her. Not that she blamed her, but the strength and purity of her hate was something Annika had never seen before; not even in the most ruthless criminals and assassins she had met during the course of her life. Not even in those who professed to hate Logan the most.

Page was unique in this. And frightening.

On the other hand, Swift was afraid, as was to be expected, but his fear seemed to be borne more from a sense of failure not only to Albion, but to _her. _The look in his eyes as he gazed at her nearly tore her heart in two. This man believed that he was worthless now, that he was the most abject of failures, and that he deserved whatever Logan decided to do to him. His posture was upright and stoic, but she plainly saw the resignation, disappointment, and sorrow that cloaked him.

Page turned her head slightly and nodded almost imperceptibly to Annika. Her courage and hatred were still swirling about her wildly, but so was a plea.

The Princess gasped softly. She had never seen what she now knew was a plea! The strange Hero's Blood that, even now, Annika was not comfortable with, told her undeniably what Page was hoping for from her. A lavender-yellow flickering near her eyes begged for the Revolution, the Cause, to continue with or without her. If she was to be executed or imprisoned, she wanted Annika to promise her that the Revolution would not die.

Major Swift wanted the same promise, Annika saw just scant moments later, but he also wanted her forgiveness for what he deemed his unforgivable failure.

"Princess Annika," Logan said, his voice carefully neutral, "is there something you would like to say? If you are undecided, let me assure you that you may remain silent and simply move on to the next step."

"I... ah... " Annika struggled for breath, hating that her eyes kept sweeping helplessly from Swift to Page. She was able to squeeze her eyes closed for a moment to turn off her ability to see their auras, but when she opened them again, Logan was still awaiting her response.

"What is the next step?" she whispered, her voice startling her in how loud it resounded about the room. She had forgotten that the room was designed to amplify all sounds, and she flinched as her own voice forcibly struck her ears.

"The next step is for me to allow you a Choice, should you desire one. A Choice you once did not have to make is the Choice you must make today. Do you remember the first time?"

Oh, gods! The villagers or Elliot; how could she forget? That was an incredibly fateful day for not only herself and Logan, but the leaders of the mob and her childhood friend.

She should have seen this coming. She should have sensed it. But she now felt the full impact of his words strike her as surely as a blow to her heart. Had she been in such denial of what would occur that she rendered herself wilfully stupid? Had she waited hours for this meeting, or was it a confrontation, with Logan, hoping that somehow a miracle would occur and this event would never come to pass?

"Do you remember?" Logan repeated patiently.

"Of course," she intoned hollowly through parched lips. Her perspiring palms rubbed her hips, and then she caught herself and clasped them before her with proper decorum.

"Then do you wish to make the Choice, or shall the other alternative be taken? If the former, you must speak and speak now. If the latter, you may remain silent and you shall not be held to blame in any record or on any tongue for what I shall order. I shall see to that personally to the utmost of my ability."

"I... oh, gods! I... " Annika had never faltered so in her entire life! Her ears began to ring and her knees buckled.

Logan gripped her by both shoulders and steadied her.

"Are you certain? You shall be held blameless," he said. "All of this can fall to me and me alone."

She swallowed and shook her head.

"No, I will... I will make the Choice!"

Logan gripped her more firmly for a moment, ascertaining her strength and attempting to silently give her encouragement at the same time. He silently and smoothly moved to stand beside her.

"The Princess will Choose," he addressed the silent room. "She has the power of life over death. One of you shall be spared and the other shall be executed."

He turned to look at Annika. "Look at me," he said.

She obeyed. His dark eyes were harsh, yet remorseful, hopeless, yet hopeful, and sad, but beseeching.

"For the last time; are you absolutely certain?" Only she detected the underlying sympathy in his voice.

"I am." Her voice was so low that it was barely audible even in the acoustically perfect room.

"Then, Princess Annika of Albion, who shall live and who shall die? Look forward now and speak."

Annika turned her face forward and managed to look not only at Swift and Page, but also beyond them.

"Choose now!"


	36. Chapter 36

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**#36**

She had made her Choice. She had made the best decision for Albion, and, she admitted to herself guiltily, for herself and Logan. It was not difficult, really, the decision between the two prisoners, but a sick emptiness filled her heart. If this was what is was like to be a Ruler, then both she and Logan had drawn short straws before they were even born.

Her love and lover was beautifully naked beneath her on the Royal Bed, but the excitement and passion that she should have felt was starkly absent. She was atop him, facing away from him, and rode him vigorously, but in body only. Her emotions had fled along with her sensations to a place so deep inside her that she did not even know if she had them any longer.

Logan's hands gasped her hips as he helped her move. He dearly loved to feel every space inside her that he could, and his thrusting and stirring motions elicited beautiful sounds of pleasure from him.

If only she could appreciate them. If only she could truly care.

"Please, my love, my Annika, please turn around and let me see you!"

She could not. If she did, he would see the bleak desolation that surely was visible in her eyes. She loved him, and though she could not feel that love at the moment, she knew that she could not, would not, hurt him in such a manner.

"Annika?"

In response she clenched her muscles tighter around him and rode him harder and faster. She had to bring him pleasure, she just had to!

Yes, he deserved that much. He deserved so much more, but at the moment she was unable to give it. All she could do was please him physically and hope that he knew he need not fear that she was lost to him.

Logan's hands began to spasm on her hips as he grunted in uncontrollable bliss. She knew how to elicit all his sensations of delectation even though they had not been lovers for long. But if she did not want him to climax just yet, she would have to keep him distracted. She did not want to lay with him and face the questions she knew he would have. She had to keep them physically occupied.

She had to keep him distracted and helpless in order to not question her or notice her lack of spirit.

Annika quickly raised herself off him and bent down to close her mouth over his engorged member. Tasting her own juices on him pleased her, especially now. He would not notice her lack of desire. Her body desired him well and truly, but her heart did not. Her long wild hair splayed over his belly as she worked on him with her mouth. His fingers twined through her unruly curls and the sounds he emitted were positively lovely.

"Annika," he said tightly, but could not speak further.

She used her thumb and forefinger to encircle the base of his cock, squeezing it to help him control his raging desire. She did not want him to come; not yet.

The unendurably sorrowful look on Page's face as she unemotionally announced her Choice refused to leave her mind's eye, as well as the horrified expression on Swifts'.

Annika took Logan's member into her throat so deeply she had to fight the urge to gag. Logan's thin desperate fingers scrabbled against her head as she determined to keep her love speechless.

"Annika, I beg you!"

She ignored him, working even harder to render him unable to speak and his body out of his own control. Sliding her fingers down to tease at his sac helped her succeed and all Logan could do now was moan and sigh. He was utterly helpless, caught in her web of power and dominance.

The murmurs of those present in the Throne Room still reverberated in her ears. Utterances of disbelief mingled with murmurs of both approval and disapproval taunted her. Shouts of congratulations as well as curses directly aimed at her tormented her mercilessly.

So why hadn't she left immediately afterwards? Why hadn't she fled to the Sanctuary through the Guild Seal? Why had she remained for the ceremonial reading of the charges of high treason, the firing squad for the one she had not Chosen, and not tear herself away from the sight and sound of the body of her comrade collapse to the ground, lifeless?

Logan. He was why. His love and need for her understanding and forgiveness pierced her fragile heart. His fear and guilt tore at her soul. The fathomless despair and naked grief in his eyes bound her to him more tightly than chains; or even their Soul Bond.

No, she could not leave him without loving him, or at least loving him and reassuring him as best she was able.

Damnation, she had been _too_ good in loving him! Logan's cock twitched in her throat and his guttural cry rent the air as he helplessly gave in to the release that neither could stave off for him.

What would she do now? How could she avoid speaking with him, much less looking at him?

She acted selfishly and desperately. With inhuman speed she climbed over him and straddled his head, lowering her sex over his face.

"Pleasure me, Logan. I demand it!"

Insidious nigglings of guilt pricked her conscience as he obeyed her without question. Once again his hands held her hips. She could feel his desperate need to please her, placate her, and earn, in his mind, even a fraction of the atonement he believed he needed to pay her. His skilled lips and tongue played along her womanly flesh and for the first time that day, bolts of euphoria, unwanted as they were, wormed their way thoroughly through her sex.

Gods, he was too skilled! She did not want to receive a single ounce of bliss from him! She did not deserve it. Not today. Not this time.

Damn it, though, her body was beginning to betray her. Her rigid self-control began to slowly crumble and erode as his warm lips suckled her tender flesh and his tongue danced along the slick nub he referred to as her 'pearl of love.'

Heated tentacles of frantic need wound their way around her thighs while invisible hands needfully caressed her breasts. Logan's mouth was almost palpable against her lips and tear-stained cheeks despite him being firmly trapped beneath her.

Annika had forgotten that he had his own 'powers.' She was not the only one who could wield the power of Will; not where their love was concerned. His power, borne now of raw fear, was stronger than hers.

He pulled her hips down so firmly that she feared she would smother him, but he was obviously past caring. All at once every nerve-ending in her body locked itself inextricably in the nub of flesh he scraped and nipped with his teeth.

Her own release came with an explosion of naked and unadorned animalistic expression. Involuntarily she tossed her head back and keened in both satisfaction and frustration.

She was also afraid. Her body, now under Logan's control, fell backwards in a boneless heap of quivering aftershocks of physical rapture.

His gaunt and frightened face appeared over her own and she was unable to close her eyes.

"Annika?" His voice was filled with pain. His expression and entire countenance radiated it.

Hot tears dripped from his large dark eyes onto her flushed cheeks. His lips thinned and quivered and she had never before seen such agony and torment in a human face.

"I love you, my Annika." Choked, strained, hoarse, pleading.

"Please, love me, forgive me, and try to understand!" Desperate, terrified, ragged, and tortured.

She could only stare into his eyes which were only a fraction away from bleak and black soullessness.

She did not respond. She could not.

* * *

><p>Her Choice. It made perfect sense, especially in light of her letter to him.<p>

Swift sat in his temporary chambers and was fighting the battle of his life. He had never thought that he could battle forces other than physical evils, but he found himself doing so now.

She had another, she had written. She had another who could organise and lead the Rebel Underground. Two people, in truth. And he, Jack Swift, was needed to train the Underground properly.

If the Revolution was to succeed, fighting men and women who knew how to wield their weapons and utilise every ounce of skill and courage they possessed were absolutely necessary. Without such the Revolution was doomed to failure from the start.

Page had been the expendable one. She had been the replaceable one.

But there was only one man, one soldier, one unofficial General who could ensure that Princess Annika would overthrow the Tyrant King when the time was right.

Swift sighed and reached for his pipe with a shaking hand. He knew that Annika had made the only Choice she could, and that it was the right one for Albion.

Still, he knew that both she and himself would carry the guilt of Page's execution with them for the rest of their lives.

The torment in Annika's eyes as she announced her Choice had nearly rent his heart in two. He knew, even then, that she did not spare him solely out of fatherly love for him, but for practical and realistic reasons.

The young woman feared that he hated her now. She feared that he would never speak to her again, much less look upon her as anything less than a monster.

He would have to assure her otherwise. He loved her as a daughter, and he respected and admired her courage. Although he knew that he would have been willing to take Page's place, he understood why he had been spared; why he had needed to be spared. Still...

He drew a ragged puff from his pipe and took up a quill. He would write to Annika at once and attempt to allay her fears. He would send the letter to the Sanctuary and hope that she would receive it quickly and not grieve or fear his censure. He still loved and respected her.

Now, more than ever, they would need each other to lean upon and rely upon.

He only hoped that Walter would do the same for the young Princess. When he would find out what transpired this day, Swift feared that Walter may not be so understanding. Despite the fact that the older man valued both him and Page, he may fear that Annika's being capable of making such a horrific choice would lure or tempt her down her brother's path of tyranny. Walter already feared that Annika was too much like Logan, but Swift knew that was not true. She loved her brother, but she did not intend to lead the People and Rule as he did. She was her own person, and she was different. Wasn't she?

Swift sighed heavily. However Annika would evolve as the Hero, he knew that he himself would follow her. She was Albion's only hope. As a Hero and as a young woman, she needed all the help she could get, and not just from allies, but from true friends.

* * *

><p>Logan staggered to his dressing room, a wreck of a man. Annika had fled him! He had begged for her love and understanding, and she had been unable or unwilling to speak. Then she had snatched a bed-sheet, wrapped it around herself, and fled to the dressing room.<p>

He had lain silently, filled with fear and dread, his very heart freezing in his chest even as it pounded furiously. His mind had raced with possible reasons why she had run from him. Did she merely need time? Was she trying to collect herself? She was obviously grieving, so was bringing her to his bed a horrible mistake?

Regardless of any of those possibilities, she had just made love with him. If she hated him, would she not have said so and left him? But she had stayed. She had not spoken other than to command him, but she _had_ stayed.

After an undetermined length of time the young King knew that she would not be returning to bed. Rising, he had decided to follow her and hope she was still in his dressing room.

He opened the door, his stomach knotting when he saw that she was not there. He recovered when he saw what she had left behind, however. On the table were very special flowers that filled him with hope and joy, although he feared he was unworthy of either.

A single red rose said to him, "I love you." Three white roses surrounding it added, "My love is eternal." And the scarlet zinnia beneath them assured him that, "My love is constant."

Logan snatched up the flowers and held them to his heart, tears now streaming from his eyes and wetting them.

He was not alone. He had not lost her.

* * *

><p>The grieving young woman in the bar at the Shelter started when a hand fell gently upon her shoulder.<p>

"Linda, what did that miserable git do to you?"

She sighed and covered his hand with hers, silently inviting him to be seated next to her. She could barely believe she was going to confide in him, but then, why not? She had carried this sorrow alone for long enough.

Linda took the now-worn letter from her trousers pocket and handed it to Ben Finn. From the corner of her eye she saw him read it. Soon his mouth morphed into a thin line of anger and the hand holding the letter shook violently.

"That rutting bastard!" he spat as soon as he finished reading. "Who in the hells does he think he is? He blames everyone but himself and uses Annika and Logan as excuses to just cast you aside like garbage?"

"Ben," she began softly, retrieving the letter from him, "I'm sure it isn't like that! He just..."

"He just what, Linda?" the young soldier snarled. "He just realised that since Annika is both the Princess and the Hero that you aren't good enough for him any more? He can take and take from you until someone comes along who can offer him prestige and coin?"

Linda winced. She knew that Ben could well be correct. Still, Elliot had never pretended to be other than who and what he was; a young man born of nobility who had fallen upon difficult times.

"He... he lost his home and his love," she whispered. "And when she came along and rescued him, he probably couldn't help himself." She smiled a wan smile and took Ben's hand. "Ben, you know Annika, and I know her, too, at least a little! She's an incredible woman, not to mention lovely! Can he really be blamed for choosing her over someone like me?"

"You mean someone who took him in when Annika was no longer a prospect for him? Someone who loved him even though he had lost his lands and any hope of marrying into the Royal Family? A lovely woman who has a heart as large as Albion and gives and gives until she can give no more and never asks for anything in return?"

He seized her hand in both of his and held it tightly. "I know you don't want to think ill of him, but that look on your face and in your eyes tells me that you know I'm right. You are more tired than usual, your eyes have lost their sparkle, and even your stride isn't confident any more. Linda, he's a rotten bastard and you know it."

Linda blushed even as she still grieved her loss of Elliot. Trying to deflect the blond soldier's uncomfortably accurate assessments, she looked him directly in his face.

"Well, what am I to do? Hunt him down and beat him?"

The moment the words escaped her lips she gasped, realising suddenly that Ben Finn was the wrong man to say such things to.

"Sounds good to me," he grumbled angrily.

"Now, Ben, I don't really mean that!" she hastened to add. "I'll be all right. I just need some time and I'll be as good as new!"

"Will you?" His piercing blue eyes bored into her dark ones. "Linda, I think you have too many burdens for one woman to bear... alone."

"But Ben, I have no-one else!"

Linda gazed into his face and tried once more to smile. "I did this alone before and I can continue to do so."

Ben surprised her by suddenly cupping her face in his calloused palms. "Maybe, but you won't. I'll be with you, love, every bit of the way."

She swallowed thickly. This man had been worming his way into her heart from the moment they met. And, now that Elliot had deserted her, she had to admit to herself that she was, perhaps, relieved. She had never felt good enough for Elliot, despite all his assurances and uncomfortable platitudes to the contrary, but Ben Finn was different. He took people at face value and accepted or rejected them at once.

He had accepted her, and more, he had shown her that he cared about her and her problems. He was so starkly sincere that she knew she would never have to worry about what he was thinking. He wore his heart, desires, and opinions on his proverbial sleeve.

"But what about the Revolution?" she whispered fearfully yet hopefully.

"We're in this together, Linda," he replied. "You and me, we can be a damned good team. That is, if you want us to be."

Her breathing quickened when he leaned in and pressed a light kiss upon her lips. Then he pulled back just far enough to look into her wide eyes.

"Do you want to, Linda? Do you want to... ah... team with me?" His usual manly confidence was reduced to a boyish uncertainty.

Her heart was racing and her lips were tingling from his kiss, and she knew he knew that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. Still, he plainly did not intend to push her.

He wasn't pushing her, however, she realised. She wanted to team with him for not only the Revolution, but to see how they would fare as a possible couple.

"Yes, Ben, I would like very much to team with you."

He grinned and leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers. "My lady, you won't regret it!"

"I'd better not. If you do to me what Elliot did, I'll gut you with a butter knife!"

He laughed out loud. "If I do that, you'd better! And," he added with a dramatic flourish, placing his hand over his heart, "besides, Annika herself, not to mention the Major and Page, would gladly step in and help you!"

Linda laughed boisterously for the first time in days. Her next ale, which she shared with Ben, was the best she had ever tasted.

* * *

><p>Annika appeared in the Sanctuary and, as she had feared, right in front of Jasper. At the sight of the sheet-clad Princess, he tactfully turned his back to her.<p>

"Greetings, Princess Annika. Ah... do you need my assistance? May I fetch you some clothes? Something to eat?"

"How about a bath!" another voice bellowed.

Both Annika and Jasper gasped and whirled about. Walter stood at the other end of the map table and glared at her. He had obviously just arrived and was in a frothing rage.

"Do you care to tell me where the hells you have been and with who?"

"Wh... why are you so angry?" she gasped. "Have you any idea what just happened at the Castle?"

"I can smell on you what happened!" he growled, approaching her one heavy footfall at a time. "And I know exactly what happened in the Throne Room and in the Courtyard. But it seems that none of that means much to you if you can find the time and the inclination to get yourself bedded just after!"

"Sir!" Jasper gasped.

"Oh, shut it!" Walter roared. "I've finally figured it out." He glared at the shivering young woman.

"You have disappointed me, Annika, and you know very well why! _Him _of all people? Not only do you bed the tyrant of Albion, but he's your own brother!"

"Sir!" Jasper burst out again, truly distraught for the first time Annika had ever seen him.

She herself, however, was frightened to her very heart. She should have known that Walter would not be ignorant forever.

"I sure as the hells hope you can be a good Queen," he continued quietly; too quietly. He peered down into her tearing eyes but did not soften one iota. "I hope you can rule the land better than you do your own morals. You are as depraved as Logan! I never thought I could look at you and feel sick to my stomach, but I do now. Your parents, rest their souls, must be as sick to see what you've become as I am."

Walter stormed off into the Weapons Room and Annika sank to her knees. Jasper immediately rushed to her and knelt behind her to support her.

"Miss? Please, try to not be so upset! He'll come around, at least as far as how much he loves and cares for you! He must!"

"But he's right, Jasper! I cannot help who I love and I won't hurt Logan for anything, but losing Walter..." She burst into sobs as the old man held her to his chest in an awkward attempt to comfort her. "He once said he would never abandon me, but now I don't know what to think."

She sagged to the floor and Jasper did the same. He bunched the sheet more firmly around her and held her as she continued to cry.

"I'll never abandon you, Princess Annika, no matter what, so please don't lose hope for Sir Walter!"

Annika continued to cry and even hoped that if she cried enough that everything would either go away or set itself aright. That was a foolish notion, but it was all she could cling to at the moment. This had been the most difficult day of her life and there was nothing she could think of that could make it seem less than absolutely, unendurably hopeless.


	37. Chapter 37

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**#37**

_I don't know how I am going to endure this! Walter has abandoned me, I am sure of it. He knows about Logan and me and now he not only believes that I love a tyrant, but because this 'tyrant' is also my brother, that I am deviant! Does he really mean that? And worse, does this mean he can never love me or even bear the sight of me again?_

_I love Logan with all that I am and that will never change. I would do anything I could for Walter, but I can never make my love for Logan just disappear! I cannot... unlove! Besides, as much as Walter, or even my mother would perhaps wish it, I could never bring myself to desire such. I am a selfish creature and I must accept that. I do not wish ill upon others, but I also cannot bring myself to sacrifice my own happiness, and in this case, my very survival. Without Logan, I would wither and die. I know that I would! His well-being is critical to my own. I am sorry, Walter, but I cannot be who you thought I was!_

_Re-reading what I just wrote, I suppose that I would do almost for Walter but the thing he would ask of me. Logan and I have our entire lives ahead of us, and as my mother once told me: "At the end of any given day it is your life you've lived and no-one else's. They all eventually go home and go about their business. But you, my darling, continue to live your own life and must do your best to be happy as well. After all, you are the centre of your own life and all others are but actors on your stage. Why make yourself miserable simply because of what others think? That is absurd. Should I not have married your father because some people disapproved? Certainly not! I would have been utterly miserable, and I never would have given birth to you and Logan. No, darling, I have no regrets; at least not many. I made the best choices I could with consideration of those around me, of course, but sometimes you have to make the best choices for yourself. What is the worth of a miserable and desolate existence?"_

_It would not be fair, I realise, to assume that my mother would condone my love for Logan, still, I cannot help but love him and he me. _

_Will Walter ever speak to me again? He left the Sanctuary last night in an absolute rage. Poor Jasper was trembling for hours and I could not stop sobbing. Jasper has assured me that he will stand by me come what may. But Walter? We do not know. He is the one who set me upon this Path. Can I travel it successfully without him?_

* * *

><p>"They will never listen to me!" Linda sobbed in frustration. "And they will never follow me; not as they did her!" She leaned over her cup of ale and covered her face with violently trembling hands, desperately trying to stem the rush of hot and mortified tears.<p>

"Kidd and the others are a bunch of gits," Ben said, putting an arm around her, "but we'll find a way to make them listen, I promise!"

Linda shook her head. She and Ben had just dealt with a grieving and angry bunch of Underground Rebels and when Ben informed them that Annika wanted himself and Linda to assume leadership, they refused. Not only did they refuse, they refused with rude gestures, even ruder words, and concluded with threats of bodily harm. Even the usually reckless Finn knew when the odds were far out of his favour, not to mention that he would never place her in jeopardy, so they fled the Sewers and were now in the Pub in Bowerstone Industrial.

"How?" Linda asked, sniffling, but slowly regaining her self-control. "If they won't even listen to what Annika wants, who will they listen to?"

"I don't know," Ben admitted, "but I think I'll have to ask Annika herself that, or maybe Swiftie."

Linda chuckled. "Am I speaking to the same man who told me that all we would have to do is, "Swagger on down there and tell them what's what?"'

Ben looked into her red-rimmed eyes and grinned sheepishly. "Well, I guess I should have had a Plan B prepped, eh?" His arm tightened around her. "I mean, other than letting our legs do their duty, that is!"

Linda's tears stopped altogether and she laughed. Ben always had a way of making her feel better. She tilted her head toward him and his forehead met hers gently. They sat that way for some time, just allowing their tension to ease away until they could simply enjoy each other's company.

"Linda?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you still think about... you know... _him_?"

"Ah, you mean Elliot." Linda rubbed the tip of her nose affectionately against Ben's. "Sometimes, but I don't hurt any more, Ben. I think I always knew that he would never see me as being quite good enough for him. With you, I am perfectly comfortable being just who I am. I don't fear your judgement or censure or that I will accidentally embarrass you in public."

"Or letting loose the occasional belch," he teased, his light blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"That was only one time!" The few tears that leaked from her eyes now were tears of laughter. "Benjamin Finn, you are..."

"Now, now," he chided with a grin, "don't spill any secrets publicly, love!"

"You..."

Ben slid his other arm around her waist and tipped her backwards, kissing her so passionately that every patron looked their way. Men grunted and women blushed. The passing barmaid giggled.

A few pleasurable moments later Linda gasped, "Ben, what will everyone think?" Her face was flushed and heated with embarrassment, but her delight far outweighed her bashfulness.

"Why, that I'm the luckiest bastard around; what else?"

She gazed into his sky blue eyes and saw the affection and genuine regard that belied his teasing remarks. He truly believed that he was lucky to have her! Linda felt a renewed surge of tenderness and adoration for this man and slid her hands into his tousled blond hair.

"Ben, you're a bit off on that, I think! I am just as lucky, if not more so, than you are!" She pulled him in for another kiss, and this one even more heated than the last.

* * *

><p>"Now, as it appears that I am not getting through to you lot, I am going to call in one of my best men," Annika sighed irritably to the disgruntled rebels in the Underground Headquarters. "Poopsie, go get him."<p>

The Doberman happily trotted out of the room.

"I did not want this to be difficult," the Princess added, "and believe me, adding to your grief is not my intention. I am so sorry that Page is gone, but the Revolution must continue on! She had absolute faith in you, and so do I. Captain Finn is a fine soldier and you already know him. Linda, here, owns and operates the Shelter and Orphanage. I firmly believe that..."

"Well, we firmly believe that you're off your nut!" Kidd snarled. "Page is dead, and all you can do is bring in the party boy and his latest doxy?"

"Shut it!" snapped a booming voice that caused everyone in the room to flinch.

Saker and his wife, Maeve, entered the room and took their places beside the Princess. Poopsie nudged Annika's thigh and whined for approval. She patted him affectionately.

"The lady is doing everything she can to make this Revolution happen and all you lot can do it piss and moan?" Saker spat. "You disgust me!"

"What is this, your pet gorilla?" Kidd asked Annika, obviously trying to sound authoritative, but failing miserably. His voice shook as he eyed the enormous form and frightening visage that cowed every rebel present.

"This is Saker, the leader of the Mercenaries," Annika said. "He was one of the first Allies for our Cause and I trust him. He's a valuable man and he skills are impressive."

"I've seen him fight," Ben added, his voice laced with admiration. "You couldn't ask for a better man on your side when it comes down to hard combat."

"He's taught my people how to fight and defend themselves!" Maeve Saker added, resting her hand on her swollen belly. "I want our child to grow up in a better Albion, and now is the time to fight for it!"

"And what would you know about making a better Albion?" Kidd snorted, still refusing to back down and accept new leadership for the Underground.

Saker stepped forward and glared down at Kidd with naked contempt. The towering leader of the Mercenaries was almost three heads taller than Kidd, and Kidd was a large man himself.

"Maeve is my wife," he growled, "and you will show her proper respect!" An enormous beefy hand clenched around Kidd's throat and squeezed.

Kidd's eyes bulged and his face reddened. Saker shoved him hard against the map table and the man was bent back over it, legs kicking uselessly and hands scrabbling futilely against Saker's iron grip.

Linda gasped, Ben's eyes widened, every rebel tensed, but Annika merely looked impatient.

"You will accept Linda as your new Leader and Liaison, and Captain Finn will assist her," Annika said firmly. "I will be sending Major Swift here to teach you all you need to know about battle skills."

Kidd was choking and nodding desperately.

Annika's eyes swept the room and took in the silent and grey-faced rebels. "Now, is this understood and accepted, or shall I simply put Saker in charge of you all and end this pettiness right now?"

Saker's choke-hold relaxed slightly and Kidd's lungs sucked in precious air, his fluttering fingers still involuntarily scrabbling against the Mercenary's immovable hand.

"We're fine with it!" the man gasped. "Linda and Finn it is, then."

"Is that a Warrior's Promise?" Saker demanded, his hand still on the man's throat.

"Yes, yes! A Warrior's Promise!"

Saker stepped back and Kidd righted himself. He wobbled, trembled, and panted, but his dignity was restored as far as everyone in the room was concerned. They realised how difficult it was for him to concede to another man, even with the threat of death or injury immanent.

"All right, then," Kidd said, after rubbing his neck and refilling his sorely depleted lungs. "Linda will be our new Leader and Liaison, and Finn will assist. When should we expect Swift?"

"In a few days," Annika replied, and a note of wistfulness crept into her voice. "I need to brief him on everything that's happening. I also need to know if any of you have..." She broke off, her previous stoic composure suddenly melting. Saker and Maeve looked at her with concern, but waited to see if she could continue before pressing her. Linda had no such plans. When she saw someone in distress it was instinctual for her to attempt to comfort her at once.

"It's all right, just ask," Linda prompted gently, putting an arm around the Hero's shoulders. "Whatever it is, we'll try and help, all right?"

Kidd nodded and straightened. He had plainly put all the prior events behind him and was ready to move forward.

"What is it, Princess?" he asked.

"I haven't seen Sir Walter," Annika admitted softly. "He was very upset by everything that's happened, as we all are, but he took it worse than I ever expected. He... he stormed off and I haven't seen him!"

"Walter is missing?" Ben asked. "That's impossible! Not only is he almost as large as Saker and hard to lose, but he just isn't the type to scarper off!"

"Do you think something has happened to him?" Linda fretted, peering into Annika's face. "Do you?"

"I don't know!" Annika burst out, her composure wavering dangerously. "He was grief-stricken and enraged! All I know now is that he's gone!" The Doberman whined in sympathy.

The Princess turned to face Linda full-on and gripped the woman's wrists. "Please, if you hear anything; anything at all..."

"We'll let you know at once," Linda concluded. She raised her gaze to meet Kidd's. "That will be our first order of business," she stated with confidence and authority. "I'll send out a few children to snoop about, and I want you all do whatever it is you do to discover... ah... things."

"Right," Kidd said, nodding. "You heard the lady, you lot! Let's get on this!"

* * *

><p>"What is it, my darling one?" Logan murmured as he studied his own Map Table. "What pains you so?"<p>

Annika's golden-purple presence was in Bowerstone Industrial, but that was not what concerned him, even though he had an idea of why she was there. He was experiencing an onslaught of sadness and heart-ache that was not his own. If it were his own, he would not be so concerned. The thought of his loved one in agony pierced his heart like a shard of ice.

Depressed and lonely as he was, the King knew that he was in a stronger mental and emotional frame of mind than his love. Annika was in pain and had been for nigh unto two days, and she had not contacted him in any way to either seek his aid or even to simply tell him what was distressing her.

Why was she being so secretive? Surely she knew that he could feel her pain!

Or did she? Logan was suddenly not so certain. They were Bonded, yes, and they did share in each others feelings, but he was keeping much secret from her. For instance, she did not know just how dangerous it was for him to reduce her injuries, if she even knew that he did so at all. He could not remember if she was even aware that he _could_ do so.

Now that he was pondering the question, Logan did not believe so. He did not recall her asking him about her rapid healing from some of her worst injuries and she had not seen him when he had voluntarily drawn what he could of her wounds to himself. Perhaps she also did not realise how deeply her feelings also reached him, bidden or not.

The King sighed and rubbed his aching and weary eyes. How he wished she would tell him what troubled her!

And then he chuckled. Weary, exhausted, lonely, and burdened beyond words, he was able to laugh a little. Expecting his Annika to voluntarily add to his own burdens was tantamount to expecting the moon to change colour! No, she would not even consider such a thing, feeling that by bearing her pain alone that she would be sparing him. Hah! Little did she know.

But perhaps there was something he could do for her. No, nothing major, but perhaps he could cheer her a little.

* * *

><p>Annika saw a new package on the Sanctuary shelves. It was wrapped in purple with a golden bow. She smiled. It was from Logan, of course!<p>

Well, whatever he had for her could only make her feel better, for she could not possibly feel worse.

She eagerly tore the paper from the box and lifted the lid. She gasped. It was a music box, golden and bejewelled, with a mosaic rose on the lid. It must have been their mother's!

The Princess opened the music box and a tune she had not heard for years tinkled lovingly and comfortingly throughout the Sanctuary.

She knew the words by heart, for it had been their mother's favourite song.

_Come with thy sweet voice again,_

_To my heart still dear,_

_Laden with soft, soothing pain, _

_Like a tear, like a tear._

_Bright visions, long vanished,_

_Round thy melodies beam:_

_Lulled in the lap of thy sighs,_

_Let me dream, let me dream._

_Come again! Come with thy sweet voice again!_

_Come, oh! come again!_

_Come with thy sweet voice again!_

_Bring not a language that tells_

_How the light hours roll:_

_Come with the music that wells_

_From thy soul, from thy soul._

_Come not with bright off'rings,_

_Cold, unhallowed and new:_

_Bring but thine own gentle heart,_

_ever true, ever true._

_Come with thy sweet voice again..._

"Oh, Logan," she whispered. "I love you and need you more than you know!"

But she knew that was a lie. He loved and needed her equally as much.

When Jasper found her some minutes later, he discovered the Princess sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall, her eyes closed and her expression radiating dreams and hope.

Smiling gently, he left as silently as he had entered.

* * *

><p>Song - 'Come With Thy Sweet Voice Again,' by Stephen Foster, 1854.<p> 


	38. Chapter 38

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer**

**#38**

"Damnation, why did this have to happen today?" Annika grumbled, smoothing her civilian skirt and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She had left Poopsie in the Sanctuary so that she could travel about unrecognised, and the common garb of a Bowerstone vendor also assisted in lending her the anonymity she desired.

She had known that this day would inevitably come sooner or later. Best to get this part of it over as quickly as possible. She hesitated on the outskirts of the Bowerstone Industrial Shelter near the garden and took one last look at the letter in her hand.

_My Dearest Annika,_

_If you are reading this letter then Logan has taken mercy upon me and delivered it to you. Please meet me in the garden at the Shelter so that we may plan our future. I hope to the gods that it will be together, my dear one._

_With love,_

_Elliot_

But of course Logan would have gladly passed the note on to her, for his pride alone would take great pleasure in the act. Annika could not prevent the wry smile of amusement that crept to her lips. She was Logan's, and he knew quite well that she would refuse Elliot. His only regret would be that he would not be present to enjoy such a spectacle for himself.

Annika herself had mixed feelings churning about inside her. She knew that she should feel pity for Elliot, or at the very least, sorrow for their lost friendship. However, she did not save for a very little. What she did feel was a sense of loss for the sake of nostalgia. Why was her heart so hard?

Then she sighed in relief. Perhaps her heart was not so hard as she feared and that was why she was not looking forward to seeing Elliot again. If she was becoming the monster she occasionally worried she could become, she would be highly unlikely to dread a simple meeting with one man, and one she had never truly loved, at that.

The Princess took a deep breath and pushed her way through the trees and bushes that separated the garden from the street. A delighted gasp and a flash of white and gold told her that Elliot had been eagerly awaiting her.

"Annika, you came! You got my letter! You got my letter and you came; you actually came!"

The young man rushed to her and pulled her into an embrace so tight that Annika's air was momentarily cut off.

"Oh, my darling, you cannot know how I've waited, hoped, and agonised over this moment! But you are here at last, and now..."

"Elliot, please wait a moment!" Annika pleaded, pulling back and laying several fingertips over his lips to cease his flurry of words. "Allow me to speak!"

"Oh, of course!" he gasped around her fingers, then pressed them to his lips with his hand and kissed them.

Annika stifled a groan at the gesture and a wave of guilt surged through her body. However, the relief that accompanied the guilt aided in dampening her fear that she was naught but a heartless woman, although she had undeniably mislead Elliot into believing that they could have a future together. When she had rescued him from Ferret she had tested his bonds of loyalty to Linda, and he had proved himself fickle. His willingness to break Linda's heart and his desire to marry as highly as he could nearly made the Princess ill. He had also accused her of being deviant in being staunchly loyal to Logan. Oh, if he only knew! Walter did, and he was goodness knows where doing goodness only knew what, and...

That all had to be set aside for now. She had no time for luxuriating in worries. She had a situation to put to rest and a toweringly large and angry man to locate. She had a land to continue to prepare for salvation and more allies to secure. She could not allow herself to wallow in self-indulgent pity now.

"Annika?"

Elliot's pleading voice and large honey-brown eyes stabbed at her heart. He was who he was, and he meant no ill by it. He was simply a boy who had no place in her life.

"Elliot, I don't want to hurt you, but I fear that I must! You see..."

He stepped back and her fingers were left hovering uncertainly in the air. "Hurt me? Annika, the only way you can hurt me is to say you don't love me!"

Annika's lips parted, but to her chagrin no words emerged. Why could she not gently tell him that she loved another? Or tell him that she was in a war in which she may not even survive?

"Annika, surely you cannot mean to tell me that you do not love me!" Elliot burst out, giving voice to what she could not. "Tell me, is Logan oppressing you even now? Does his power and greed have you in his grasp so fiercely that you cannot see that there is life beyond him?"

"Elliot," she finally managed to say, "I... I cannot be with you." Her lips were suddenly parched and her throat nearly closed with pity and guilt. Still, she was determined to let him know that he not only had no chance with her, but that he could never return to Linda and have another opportunity to break her heart a second time, either.

"You can," Elliot said with all the conviction of innocent youth. He grasped her hands and pressed them to his heart. "You can flee with me. You can still be the Hero, but you needn't be under Logan's thumb any longer! I have friends I can call upon for favours. I'm sure I can help you secure men and coin to add to your cause."

"My... cause?"

"Yes, the Revolution! You must know there are whispers all over Albion about it. The Tyrant King will not last, Annika. You will defeat him and become the Queen Albion needs, and I'll be right at your side. I'll support you in whatever you do!"

Her eyes closed and tears seeped from beneath her swollen lids. How did she even have tears to spare? She had wept and sobbed so much for Page and over Walter that it was a wonder she had a single tear left in her worn and exhausted body.

"Oh, Elliot!" Now pity swept over her full force. Yes, she had tricked him, but he was merely a foolish and ambitious boy. He had harsh lessons yet to learn, but she hated having to force one upon him now. After all, he had been her beloved childhood friend.

"Elliot, the truth is that I love another. My heart is completely and utterly his." She opened her eyes.

Elliot's mouth worked silently. He dropped her hand and stared at her, looking like a frightened deer knowing that the hunter was about to end its life.

"And not only that, but this coming war is one I may not even survive!"

"But..." he spluttered, finding his voice at last, "but what if you do? And who is this man? And..."

"Elliot, it does not matter who he is! What matters is that my life is my own, yet it is not. I never could have dreamt or imagined all the things that are happening to me and because of me. The best thing I can do for myself and Albion is to press on."

"And leave me behind? Annika, are you certain that Logan isn't behind these words of yours? Do you love me or not? Am I the man you love and you are lying about it to protect your brother?"

If he hadn't been so serious she could almost have laughed. Protect Logan? Logan would need her help and likely her protection in time, but certainly not now, and never from Elliot.

"Elliot," she continued gently, "I do not lie. I am so altered that you would no longer know me as the Annika you once played with in the Palace Gardens. I am so altered that perhaps you would hate me now, or even fear me. Goodness knows I have both friends and enemies in equal measure. I have done and will do terrible as well as wonderful things."

"But... your love?"

She lowered her gaze. "I told you true. I love another. And before you utter another word, I must tell you if you do not know already, that Linda does, as well. She has found her soul-mate in Captain Finn. I do not wish you to go to her after we finish here and find that out and double your pain this day."

Elliot spun on his heel, turning his back to her.

"So, that is how it is, aye? I offer you my love and I even gave up Linda for you! I've now lost everything because of you!"

"You cannot blame me for your life and your decisions, Elliot! You alone are responsible for the path you take in life. Please, Elliot, begin anew and find happiness."

He turned back toward her and his face was red with fury. "Some day you'll regret not accepting me, Annika. I have known you your entire life and I know you like no other. If you ever come back to me, make sure you do it on your hands and knees, for I don't know how else I'll ever be able to forgive you for humiliating me like this!"

"Elliot, I'm sorry!" She was; she truly was. She did not regret her love for Logan or that Linda had found a man worthy of her, but she was truly sorry that Elliot, so innocently lacking in maturity, was taking the brunt of everything painful and embarrassing. But neither she nor Linda could change their hearts. Elliot had freedom that neither of them did, at least for the present. Elliot could start his life over again and choose his own way. He could mature and possibly even become so much more than a former Ward of the Crown.

"Save your poisonous words for some other poor sod!" he spat in fury. "I hope Logan dies a miserable death and that you find the Crown a burden you cannot bear! Now let me be, you deviant little bitch!"

Annika watched him storm away. She unconsciously reached down with her right hand and met only air, then was saddened to recall that Poopsie wasn't there to lick her hand. For now, she was truly alone.

"Ben Finn, you are a positive rogue!" Linda squealed, rolling over to escape her lover's tickling fingers.

Said Captain wiggled them playfully in the air and then reached for her ribs once more. "I told you these magic fingers can do many things to pleasure a woman!"

"Yes, but you didn't say you would use them like that!" she gasped, punching his arm playfully. "I can barely breathe!"

"Well, you had no trouble positively screaming my name just a few minutes ago!" he teased. "I wonder if the entire Shelter heard you?"

"They better not have," she retorted, but with a smile. "At least I was savvy enough to secure a room in a wing where there are no children!"

"And I'm savvy enough to have the new Leader of the Underground at my mercy in more ways than one!"

Linda laughed in pure joy. She hadn't been loved so genuinely, not to mention thoroughly, in her life. Ben Finn was the man of her heart; she knew it. She also knew that she was the woman of his. It took this man time to open himself to expressing his feelings, but she did not mind. She could wait. In the meantime, she saw all she needed to know in his eyes, his actions, and in everything he did for her, large and small.

"That you are," she admitted. "You are the savviest man I know, Ben Finn!"

"Well, are you up for another round of my savvy skills before dinner?"

Linda gasped. "Again? Ben, you can't have had time to recover!"

"Who said I need to recover? All I need is my hands and mouth right now, eh? Now, be a good girl and spread 'em for me!"

Linda blushed, knowing what he intended. He was the best lover she had ever had, and his skills in a woman's most intimate area were incredible, but she felt that her own in relation to a man were inadequate to return the favour.

Ben must have read her misgivings in her face, for he pushed her thighs apart himself. "My lovely Linda, never fear! You are beyond compare, do you know why?"

"Because I love you?"

He looked up from her soft and pink flesh to smile at her. His entire face was lit with joy and adoration.

"Yes. I've never had real love before, Linda, and that makes all the difference. And...well..."

"You don't need to say it, Ben," she whispered.

His ice-blue eyes narrowed in determination. "Yes, I do. I love you, Linda. I love you and I'd die for you."

She gasped. "Oh, please don't say anything about dying!"

"But I would," he said. Then he grinned. "But no worries, love; I don't intend to die. If I do that, how can I enjoy a lifetime with you?"

He lowered his mouth to her most intimate flesh and laved his tongue along her swollen femininity. "And besides, if I die and another bloke takes my place, I'd have to come back as a ghost and split him from groin to gullet, and then you'd give me a tongue-lashing like I'd never had before!"

"Well, plainly and simply; don't die, and give me your own special tongue-lashing right now, Benjamin Finn!" Linda ordered playfully. "And after that, we'll have dinner. And after that..."

"After that, we'll take care of Shelter business and then see what Kidd has to say. I wonder if he really has a lead on Walter or if he's just thick-headed and got his rumours mixed up with any facts he might have got?" Ben grinned. "Anyway, let me give you one more trip to the heavens, woman!"

"Gods, Ben, I don't know how much I can bear! When you do this, I..._ah!" _

"Shush! Just let me utilise my talents, eh?"

Linda closed her eyes and nodded. After all, when Ben set his mind to something, there wasn't anything to be done for it but to go along with him. Besides, in such cases, she didn't want to.

"Try not to faint, but feel free to scream, my lovely!"

Afterwards, she couldn't be certain, but Linda thought that somewhere along the line she _had _fainted. If so, the smug expression on Ben's face told her that he hadn't minded one bit.


	39. Chapter 39

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

_Special warning – negative and disturbing ideas, feelings, and possible fate regarding an unborn child._

_I hope this chapter is not a mistake! I felt that such an event would be likely to happen to Annika and with her basically good, yet at times very selfish nature, she would have a horrible possibility lay before her. I hope that some of you will have suggestions as to how this situation should be resolved. This point is not one I have decided on one way or the other. I felt compelled to add this into the story because of the realistic nature of it, and also use it as a way to see how a generally good, but flawed and jealous young Princess, would cope with it. _

_Any ideas? Please feel free to review and tell me! Please, no flames, tho! I intend no offence; I just want to see where such a life-changing event could lead and how it will affect everyone around Princess Annika. I have an idea of how to resolve this situation, but I welcome other suggestions!_

**Come Closer**

**#39**

"Is she serious?" Kidd asked Linda, incredulity etched over his chiselled and scarred face. "She's just having us on, ain't she?"

Linda studied Annika's determined visage and couldn't help but smile. She didn't blame Kidd for not believing that the Princess could possibly be so determined to carry out the proposed mission in such a strange manner. Linda liked it, however, and knew that in the end, if the plan worked, all involved would be left with a clear conscience.

"I'm deadly serious, Kidd," the Princess said evenly. "I have thought this out to the last detail and I wanted you all here to know in advance so that you can prepare yourselves."

"But wouldn't it be easier if we just..."

"I don't care if it would be easier!" Annika cut in heatedly. "I want it done exactly the way I told you. Wouldn't you prefer that it be done peaceably rather than with unnecessary deaths?" Her green eyes bored into the large man's with a fierce and passionate light. "Haven't we all seen and been responsible for enough bloodshed? Do you really want more simply because you think it would be easier?"

Kidd grunted and shook his head, appearing every bit the scolded and chastened child.

"Good," Annika said, her tone softening. She raised her forearm and pulled back the sleeve. A bright glowing blue mark shaped like a lightening-bolt marked its surface. "I have this blue Will Mark on my arm and will keep it to both remember and honour Page. I obtained it during our last battle together. I think that the plan is one she would approve of."

"Yeah, she would," Kidd agreed. He turned his gaze to Linda and she sucked in a breath of worry. Saker had intimidated the Underground Rebels into following her leadership, but she knew that she was on her own in her quest to earn their trust. Ben Finn was obviously a competent man and accepted by them, but did they trust in her own competence?

"You know the people, Linda," he continued with a nod. "I've seen how you take care of kids and the poor. Once you set your mind to something you just don't let it go. You're like a bulldog, and that's what I always told Page, too. You're more like her than you think."

Linda was baldly taken aback. Kidd was actually paying her a compliment? Being compared to Page by her most steadfast follower was tantamount to being held up for the highest of honours.

"I hope that I won't disappoint you," she said to him. "I swear that I will do everything I can to help us all bring peace and safety to Albion."

Annika smiled at her, and for a moment Linda felt as if she was once again in a dream; for it was a dream, after all, that had brought them together. When the Princess embraced her Linda felt as if everything was going to be well. She felt that Annika would indeed become Queen and all the land and its people would benefit. She felt that she and Ben would marry, settle down, and raise a family. Perhaps Saker and his wife, Maeve, would raise their child in a stronger and better Albion, too. Perhaps they would meet together and lift their mugs to a world changed for the better.

Something in Annika's embrace changed. At first her hug was comforting and encouraging, but now Linda felt taunting tendrils of desperation and deep melancholy radiate from Annika's fingers and tease along her spine.

"Princess, are you all right?" She drew back just enough to observe the young woman's expression. Linda knew well that Annika was strong and determined. She also had her own problems and personal struggles, and though she gently refused to confide in her, Linda knew that they were very serious.

The Hero was still vital, powerful, and lovely, but something about her had changed. She no longer drank and joked with the Rebels. Encouragement and enthusiasm, alone with friendly banter and high spirits had waned although her determination had not.

Whatever was troubling the Princess would not stop her from claiming the Throne, but Linda also hoped that it would not tear her very heart and spirit apart in the process. Annika was a friend and not just the key ingredient in the Revolution. But were herself, Ben, Major Swift, and the missing Walter the only people who would notice, much less care? Did Annika have anyone else to truly care for and love her?

"I'm fine, Linda," Annika whispered into Linda's ear. "I am worried about Walter, though, and I hope that Kidd's information is good."

Linda smiled wanly at her. "Do you hope it is? Do you really?"

Annika returned her smile with a cynical one of her own. "I think so. Just because Walter may indeed be there doesn't mean that he has deserted me, or rather, all of us. Perhaps he came upon some intelligence and it was imperative that he depart at once."

"Or perhaps he was required to go alone," Linda added thoughtfully as Annika slowly released her and stepped back.

"That is quite possible," the Princess replied with a weary sigh. "I grew up around constant demands of 'Come alone,' and 'Under no circumstances are you to tell anyone that we are meeting.'"

"That must be the case," Linda said as confidently as she could. "Why else would Walter just up and leave like that? Well, if he is even where Kidd's source says he is."

"Of course he is!" Kidd ejaculated indignantly. "My sources have never steered me wrong. If he says Walter is there, then he's there, and there ain't no doubts about it!"

"Very well," Linda said and stepped to the Map Table. She studied the area and frowned. "Princess, that may be a horribly difficult journey. We'll all be ready to act the moment we get your word."

"Thank you," Annika replied quietly.

Just before the Princess turned to leave the room Linda saw something that almost took her breath away. The Princess pressed an open hand to her lower belly and glanced down wistfully..Then she sadly shook her head and left.

"No, it is not possible," Linda murmured. "There is too much going on and too much at stake. Besides, she has no lover!"

Kidd had heard her and obviously had seen precisely what she had.

"Not that we know of, Miss Linda," he said, "but if she is in a family way, things may get hairy for all of us."

"Don't you even think of abandoning her or our cause!" Linda snapped, her temper suddenly rising. "Besides, we don't know anything for certain, and our wild thoughts may be just those; wild thoughts!"

"Oh, we won't abandon nothin' or nobody," Kidd said. "But she'd best be ready for the worst if we turn out to be right."

"Well," Linda said, straightening her spine and determined that she would be steadfast and pleased, "as Ben would say, perhaps she will be..." But she ended up blushing and unable to finish the sentence.

Kidd chuckled. "Arse over tits with happiness? Yeah, perhaps she will, at that!"

* * *

><p>Poopsie's fur was soft and warm, his licks were loving and devoted, and his extreme gentleness and patience in allowing her to bury her face in his neck as she cried undid the young woman utterly.<p>

Annika was no longer simply crying; she was sobbing and coughing so badly that she could barely breathe. How had this happened? They had been so adamant that no such thing would occur, although their agreement was unspoken. Their Wills on this matter were as one and neither wanted to endanger all by a poorly timed conception!

Could she be mistaken? Could the slight rounding of her belly simply be the result of overindulgence between errands and tasks? Could her strange dreams of faceless babes be merely dreams and nothing more? Could the alien sensations of fluttering blossoming life in her belly, albeit phantom at this point, simply be apprehension?

No. She knew better. Although she was not far along she was definitely with child. She needed no midwife or physician to tell her so; she _knew. _Her Hero's Blood and her Bond with Logan was both a blessing and a curse in such matters, it seemed. Ignorance would have been a welcome relief and balm; but no, she was cursed with knowledge that would cause her beloved Logan fear for her safety and herself to worry that her much-needed powers and abilities would be hindered.

She had no time for this! There were too much to do and too many lives at stake for a baby to reduce her effectiveness as Hero and prospective Queen.

"Princess Annika?"

Jasper's soft query floated about her and the care and concern in his voice blanketed her in an nebulous yet powerful cloak of safety and comfort.

"Yes, Jasper?" she choked.

"I think I know what is troubling you," her oldest friend said, seating himself beside her and the patient Doberman on the bed in the Lodge. "I tended to your mother through confinement twice," he added, gently stroking her tear-wet and unruly hair.

"But I can't, Jasper!" she gasped, her breathing coming easier now. "Logan and I don't want a baby now. We _can't _have a baby now!"

"Miss Annika, a baby is a blessing. Your mother gave birth to King Logan during her time as Albion's Hero. Why cannot you have a child as well?"

Now she was forced to face the truth she had managed to deny confronting even in her own mind. Truth was not always beautiful; it could be a fiendish thing that could devour the best intentions and destroy the most cherished hopes.

_Because for me the vile, odious, awful truth is that I am a selfish creature and don't want a baby at all! The last thing I want is for it to get in the way of everything! If it takes even the tiniest bit of Logan's love from me I don't want it! It is a leech that will take and take and take and I don't know that I can suffer it much less love it!_

"Miss?"

His tone was so gentle and his fingers so soothing in her hair that she was once again reminded that he was a true friend. He would remain true to her no matter who or what she was, much as Logan would. Whether she was noble and held to the pinnacles of noble deeds or else made choices that pleased herself, she would be loved by both men in their own way.

"I am... I am a terrible person, Jasper," she began, hoping that she was not mistaken about him. Everything in her blood sang that she could trust him even if everyone else in the world would condemn her for her self-indulgent thoughts and feelings.

"I do not think I want the baby. I do not want it to compromise me as a Hero. It will make me weak and vulnerable." She drew a quavering breath and forged on. "I know it is horribly selfish and vile of me, but I do not want to share Logan. I am happy the way we are now. A baby will ruin everything."

There. She had said it. Now let the chips fall where they may, the old saying echoed in her mind.

"Miss, I doubt that there are many women who feel much differently than you, at least in the beginning," he said, surprising her completely. "I have seen many a family and marriage troubled by the birth of a child."

"But... but isn't a baby supposed to be a wonderful thing for a woman? Isn't a baby supposed to be the best thing she can do for... for..." Words to describe her sentiments slithered just out of her reach. No matter how she grasped for them they eluded her and taunted her with niggling guilt regarding her sentiments.

"I understand, Miss," Jasper said, now gently beginning to brush her tears from her cheeks with a gentle hand as she turned onto her back and looked into his careworn face. "A child changes everything; that is without doubt. For most people a child is the most remarkable miracle they can hope for. But I'll also admit, as your friend, mind you, that not everyone feels the same. There are some people for whom a child is not... suitable."

"But I am already fated to have one, it seems," Annika replied, closing her eyes and envisioning Logan's warm dark eyes locking with hers in love. "I do not know how Logan will feel, but I must tell him. Neither of us wanted a child now; that much I know. But... " She stopped. She did not dare utter the terrible idea that she knew both herself and Jasper could not help but entertain.

Annika should have been surprised that Jasper had the audacity to be so familiar with her; the Princess. Convention dictated that she should have been angry, or at the least, annoyed. But when he lifted her and pulled her into his chest for a tight and warm fatherly hug she did not feel either of those things.

She felt relief and comfort. He would not disappear as Walter had done, nor judge her as most people likely would for even thinking of ending her 'delicate condition.'

Jasper did not and would never wish her to do such a terrible thing, she knew. But what would Logan want? And despite her own misgivings, would she truly be capable of such a heinous act? When it would come down to the very moment of action, would she falter? And why did she not know how Logan felt? Why did their Bond fail her now?

Fear. Fear and the desire to not trouble him just yet nor herself for discovering that he may want something she did not. This self-serving covetousness was serving her well for the moment, but at what price? Could every instance of such an act lead her down a path she should never, ever take? And if so, could she ever find a way back if her ultimate destination turned out to be Dark and she wished to return to Light? She knew she was not a paragon of virtue, but she was not evil, was she? She had no desire to be evil or harm anyone! So why was she unsettled to the point of despondence over an innocent babe; a babe that was forged from her and Logan's love?

For the moment, however, she resolved to focus on fully acknowledging the state she was in and then see Logan. Yes, he would know best. Or, her cowardly inclinations taunted her, he could serve as an easy way for her to not have to make the ultimate decision.

Logan was accustomed to making difficult choices and she knew that he would be willing to make this one for her. As unfair and recreant as she was concerning the child within her, she knew she lacked the courage to Choose one way or the other.

Oh, Logan should not have to make such a terrible Choice! Annika's fingers involuntarily scrabbled at Jasper's back and she began to cry once more. As much as she hated herself at this very moment, she knew that she would most likely force her beloved to be responsible for the most innocent life of all.


	40. Chapter 40

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Author's Note - **I'm so sorry that I've been taking so long in updating my stories. All I can say is that RL has been rough and busy, but I make you a promise now that I hope my history has already shown I'll keep - I'll never ever abandon this story or any other that I post. EVER. I wouldn't dream of doing that whether I have one reader or one hundred. You all are too important to me and my writing is my love. I'm just happy to be able to write in a Fandom I adore and have anyone at all enjoy it.

That said, everyone please have a happy and safe Thanksgiving. I hope this chapter is worth the wait. I realise that it is rather 'fragmented,' but it is setting the stage for the last section of this story that has turned out to be much, much longer than I ever anticipated! :)

**Come Closer #40**

_If Kidd's information is good, and it probably is, whatever would Walter be doing in such a desolate place? What could he hope to gain? Major Swift has assured me that the desert land of Aurora hosts invaluable allies to our Cause. Despite his insistence that their mighty warships will help me not only gain the Crown, but hold it until I am accepted as the new Queen of Albion, I am uneasy._

_Firstly, why would Aurora want to help me? Secondly, why would Walter go there alone? Is he planning to usurp my place as the new ruler? After all, it would not be the first time a new monarch has been a war hero. Hells, even the Major qualifies if Walter is indeed plotting against me. And thirdly, even if by some miracle Walter is still my friend and ally and I take the Crown of Albion, what will become of Logan and I and our unborn babe? _

_Oh, to be able to go back to simpler times! I have been so painfully naïve. I always assumed that things would somehow work themselves out and once I am Queen I could marry Logan and bestow upon him the title of Prince Consort. I could even cite numerous references as to previous royals marrying within the family; yes, even brothers and sisters. Jasper has told me that since such a thing hasn't been done for generations that the People would likely not look kindly upon our marrying. It would not be solely because Logan is my brother but because he is also looked upon as a tyrant. If I marry him I would willingly be marrying my tyrant brother as well as bearing his child. _

_Who would want me as Queen then? I know that together Logan and I are capable of defeating whatever evil threatens our land, but how can we do that if we do not command an army? Major Swift would be a splendid leader, but there is no guarantee that he or someone who would even believe such an evil as Logan and Theresa have told me of could succeed in defeating it unless Logan and I are accepted in, and part of, the battle._

_I am also battling my own feelings, both selfish and selfless. Oh, I know I am no paragon of virtue and goodness, but I cannot help but compulsively dwell upon my personal problems. Firstly, how do I tell Logan about the babe? Will he be pleased or displeased? If he is displeased, will that ruin our love and endanger my babe's very life?_

_I...said it. Yes, on paper, but I've finally said it. It is my baby and not just some strange and foreign thing growing inside of me. I cannot say that I love it as a proper mother just yet, but I feel a spark deep within my very heart that tells me I soon will. It will break my heart if Logan is not pleased. Still, I must consider his feelings as this is his baby, too. _

_That is selfless of me, but the selfish parts still nag at me as well. I do not want to leave the Castle. It is our home! Logan is a splendid man and ruler, and someday I will prove that to all of Albion! It would not be fair to us to have to forfeit our place because of stupid prejudices that people hold so dear and as if they are virtues! After all, we care for them and want the best for them! Logan and I can and will do so much good if we are allowed to. _

_Logan and I and our baby. We would be so good for Albion. Together._

_I must concentrate on the Revolution now. My previous plan of stealing a boat and sailing to Aurora no longer feels like the best thing to do. Not only could I become frightfully ill during the voyage, but I fear the possibility of fighting guards and endangering myself and the baby in so doing. What if I miscarry? What if I do not miscarry but am wounded and thus wound the babe as well?_

_I simply must see Logan; I must! We shall have to somehow make everything work._

_But about the boat, I..._

"Miss?"

Annika raised her head from her journal and sighed. "Yes, Jasper?"

"You have a missive. It is from..." The old butler swallowed thickly. "It is from Reaver."

* * *

><p><em>*I shall, in time, expand on the many strange and incredible escapades that occupied me during the following years. For now I will simply remark that I hunted hidden treasures, set on dangerous quests in the very same manner the Heroes of legends once did, and in short, exhausted almost every legitimate means by which a young man may experience life at its fullest. It must have been this exhaustion, coupled no doubt with the fact that I could never quite shake off my involvement, accidental or otherwise, with criminal behaviour, that led me in the end to run with a band of smugglers operating out of the Bowerstone port. After a few weeks of contra-banding, it was inevitable that I would wash up in the capital of such activities, Bloodstone. Its uncouth nature, colourful <em>_characters and almost daily bar room fist fights, fed a rather unhealthy, and until then quite hidden, appetite for the pleasures only the lowest of societies can provide. I blush to recall those days of drinking, gambling and indulging in other unsavoury pastimes. I blush even harder as I bring to mind the succession of strong-willed and even stronger thighed women I fell in love with. My only excuse is that such lack of restraint was latent in my blood, and while I had not followed my brothers' example while they lived, I celebrated their memories by following it now.*_

Linda rolled her eyes and dropped the parchment in exasperation.

"Really, Ben, you actually claim to 'blush' in remembrance of the women you've been with?"

_"What?"_ Ben raced over the her desk and took a look at what she was reading.

"My...my autobiography?" he gasped. "Where did you get that? I have been working on that for years and a that is one of the sections that went missing!"

Linda smiled wryly. "You are dodging the question, my dear Mr. Finn."

Ben flashed her his most disarming grin. "Now, love, don't you worry about my past! You are the only one for me. And yes, I do blush!"

She couldn't help but snort as she burst into laughter. "I have never seen you blush even when we've done some things together in bed that would make a sailor blush!"

Ben leaned down and wrapped his arms gently around her from behind. "I blush sometimes! Well, maybe not often, but I have been known to!" He kissed the top of her head. "Now, that bein' said, will you please tell me where you got that?"

"Not until you tell me about the 'strong thighed' women you... fell in love with."

Linda kissed Ben's wrist. As much as she loved him and trusted in his love for her, she now felt a cold and creeping surge of jealousy that he had used the words 'fell in love with.' She had wanted to believe that he had never truly loved before her; that all of his previous women had been merely youthful dalliances. But now it seemed otherwise. His own writings baldly stated as much.

But why did it trouble her so deeply if he _had_ loved before? After all, she had loved Elliot at one time and even expected to marry him.

"Are you jealous, love?"

Linda felt her heart begin to race at his proximity, but at the same time a knot formed in her belly. He was right; she was jealous. But why? Images in her mind blurred and jumbled as she quickly attempted to sort through the myriad of memories to find the answer.

And then she found it and understood exactly why she was envious; it was because she had never loved before Elliot. Before Ben she had only loved one man. But before her, Ben had loved many.

But if he had loved many, would he continue to love her? Or would she end up being simply another 'strong thighed' woman in his long string of nameless conquests? But if she began to dwell upon such thoughts then her trust in his love would weaken. Before she had seen that blasted paper she hadn't for a single moment questioned their love!

"Linda?"

"Oh, um... Kidd found it in the bar," she replied faintly, her mind now too troubled to recall his more recent question.

Ben sighed and tugged her chair. It scraped and creaked as he forcibly turned it, and her, to face him. He knelt before her and took her hands firmly in his. He looked up into her face and his pale blue eyes bored into hers.

"Linda, you've absolutely no reason to be jealous or upset! The past is the past. It has nothing to do with us."

"You say that now," she said after a long pause, "but I won't be made a fool of." An uncomfortable moment of silence followed as Ben's eyes refused to waver even slightly. Try as she might she could not look away, but forced herself to speak on nonetheless.

"I naively fell in love with a handsome young man who dropped me like a hot rock the moment he thought he found a better opportunity. And then I met a wonderful soldier who was... _is _... everything I could ever want. But the only catch is that he has a habit of falling in love with and bedding every woman who is willing."

Ben did not deny her charges but his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. "Go on," he said tightly.

"I never questioned anything about us until now, and now I can't help but wonder if I am the right sort of woman for you."

"What you really mean is that you wonder if I'm the sort of man you can trust. You wonder if I am a cad who will break your heart and leave you the moment another pretty lass crosses my path."

His words were soft but laced with more than just a tinge of hurt.

"Linda, I won't deny my past, but there is one thing I will deny, or rather, amend. I wrote that I fell in love with those women. Well, those weren't the right words to use. All my life I've tossed the word 'love' around like something common and disposable." His grip on her hands tightened. "But I was wrong. Love is not common nor is it disposable. I didn't know that until I met you."

Linda swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"For the sake of this discussion, let's say that you have grown up and matured in matters of the heart," she said, feeling herself calm a little despite an unexplainable and unreasonable desire to remain hurt and suspicious. "Let's say that you do love me. What now? Where do we go from here? Should we just go on as we have and take one day at a time and not really focus on our relationship until after the Revolution?"

Ben shook his head and grinned. "Love, that would be bollocks atop a ton of bollocks! The Revolution is important, but so are we. I'll be disappointing any suspicions you have of me."

She quirked a brow quizzically. "Oh? How, pray tell?" She edged her tone with sarcasm, but in truth her hurt and suspicions were wavering.

He was clearly undaunted. "Because I'll prove to you that _you _have the strong thighs I want to spend the rest of my life with!"

With that he pushed her legs apart and nudged his head between her knees. He looked up at her and did his best impression of a sad-eyed puppy.

"Won't you give poor lil' Ben a chance to prove himself?" He blinked several times and pouted. "Hmm? Won't you? Pleeeease?"

Despite herself Linda began to laugh. "You are incorrigible! Incorrigible and shameless!"

"Guilty on both counts, ma'am! Now, why couldn't you have chosen to wear a skirt today?"

"A skirt? Why?"

Ben turned his head and kissed her left knee. "Because my ears are very cold and you have such strong and warm thighs."

Linda blushed and playfully swatted him about the shoulders as he began to pepper her inner thighs with kisses. "Ben Finn, what am I to do with you?"

He paused for a moment and then grinned widely. "Get yourself into a skirt and _I'll_ be the one to do something with _you!_"

* * *

><p>The last time Annika had seen the receiving room in Reaver's mansion it had been littered with party guests and their various drunken and sexually suggestive debris. Now the room was as immaculate as the Industrial Tyrant himself. Reaver was garbed in purple from his obviously expensive purple velvet smoking jacket and trousers down to his plush purple slippers. From the smug expression he wore he had done that solely to annoy Annika. It was her signature colour and he was obviously mocking her.<p>

"Sit, sit! Please make yourself at home, my dear," he said silkily, waving her toward a scarlet upholstered chair. Everything in Reaver's mansion was some combination of scarlet and gold save for the wood, and that was not even left alone; every hapless piece wood bore at least one elaborately scrolled 'R'.

The décor was so rich and ostentatious that it make the Palace pale in comparison. Annika felt the tell-tale signs of an incipient headache and inwardly groaned.

What an insufferable narcissist! Self-admiration almost tangibly oozed from his every pore. But, she suddenly noticed, he was also watching her intently. Did he not trust her, or was she of particular interest to him? Since he had been the one to initiate a meeting he must have some sort of interest in her; or rather, what she could do for him. He was plainly not afraid of her for he was not sporting his famous Dragonstomper pistol. She, however, had not dispensed of her own weapons.

She slowly and carefully seated herself, not taking her eyes off of Reaver for a moment.

"Would you care for a drink?" the Hero of Skill queried.

"Ah... no." She had been about to accept when she remembered her babe. Spirits and ales would likely not be beneficial. "Why don't you just tell me what it is you want? I am certain you did not ask me here for the pleasure of my company."

"Oh, but I could have! You are such delightful company; daughter of the lovely late and lamented Sparrow. If I recall correctly, and I always do, you are a delightful dancer besides a witty young woman. Oh, and, of course, quite pretty. King Logan is a lucky man to have a... sister... such as yourself."

Annika sighed audibly. She hoped that the man would not bore her with obsequious flattery all night, not to mention insult her with innuendoes regarding her relationship with Logan. Reaver's eyes betrayed no new insight; rather, he stopped speaking and let out a sigh himself.

"Well, if you are only interested in business, then I shall indulge you, my dear."

"Do not presume that you may address me in such a familiar manner," she retorted. "I am neither 'your dear' nor a woman you can treat as beneath you."

A flicker of doubt glittered in his eyes, and then he smiled in what appeared to be genuine admiration.

"A woman _much _like myself," he murmured thoughtfully. "I am positive that I am right about you, Princess." His tone was unexpectedly reflective and the expression in his eyes shifted from sarcastic to sincerity.

"Right about what?" His change of manner unsettled her and he still hadn't even begun to tell her why she was in his home.

"Oh, something that needn't concern you at the moment," he replied casually; too casually. "However, on to business. There is one thing I want to do for you in exchange of what you can do for me. I dare say that my proposal will be of benefit to us both, not to mention to your dear, dear _brother._"

Annika gritted her teeth so tightly that stabbing pain seared through her jaw. How dare he continue to insinuate what he was? Her and Logan's private life was no business of his! Still, his strange behaviour and even stranger words held her in place and ready to hear his proposal.

"Get on with it, Reaver," she snarled, rage beginning to simmer beneath her calm exterior. "And no more snide remarks or I'll gut you like the pig you are!"

He raised a brow in mock innocence. "Very well, let me tell you the basics of what I propose."

"The basics? If I'm to do anything for you, Reaver, I'll need to know more than mere 'basics'."

He crossed his legs, somehow making the normally common and unconscious gesture an exercise in grace and elegance.

"Truly, you do not, Princess. In brief, I happen to know that you are desirous of travelling to that atrocious but deliciously barbaric country known as Aurora."

"How..."

"A little bee told me that you have a friend there, not to mention potential... friends."

"Of course," she replied tersely. "You always manage to know everything. Go on."

"Well, I am willing to loan you one of my ships, and, as an additional and most generous bonus, add 500,000 gold pieces to the Royal Treasury in exchange for your services in Aurora for me." The Deviant steepled his fingers beneath his chin and continued. "I need a capable person, such as yourself, to safeguard a shipment that I have purchased from some of the more industrious and open-minded Aurorans. I need you to safely see it aboard the ship without... incident. As soon as the shipment arrives here I shall pay the gold to the Treasury and your brother's financial difficulties will be significantly lessened."

Annika leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. "You will pay 500,000 gold for me to safeguard and escort a shipment for you? That is quite a lot of coin."

"Value is in the eyes of the beholder, Princess. I happen to value my purchase highly. So, do you accept my offer or not? And before you ask, no; I will not tell you the nature of the shipment."

She leaned back and closed her eyes; something she never thought she would do in this man's presence. She needed to go to Aurora. Logan needed more money. She needed safe passage to Aurora for herself and the babe. Despite her unease and distaste of dealings of any sort with Reaver, his offer was too good to refuse.

"I accept."

* * *

><p>*This text of Ben Finn's is from the XBOX game "Fable 3."<p> 


	41. Chapter 41

I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Logan

Rated M for explicit adult content and incest. Don't like, don't read!

The rating is listed as M for certain chapters, as well as the theme of incest. Also, my interpretation of Logan for this particular story may seem OOC to some readers, so be warned! Also, I will not be strictly following the plot-line of the game. There will be some changes and deviations.

King Logan and Princess Annika are becoming ever closer. Annika is determined to understand her brother and stand by him even while the entire Kingdom begins to turn against him. But how can she do that while her part in a Prophecy approaches and begins to claim her?

**Come Closer #41**

She was absolutely certain that Logan's dark painted eyes were soothing her. Yes, he would come to her as soon as he could. Even through the hard oils of the portrait there was life in his visage, even if only for her.

Annika sighed and closed her eyes. It had felt like ages since she was able to lay in her bed at Hunter's Lodge and just ... rest. Ages since she had seen Logan and ages since she had known that the time would come where she would embark on the last stages of her Journey to the Truth of what Logan feared would descend all too soon upon Albion.

For the moment there was nothing she could do but wait. She would not set sail for Aurora until she had seen Logan, lavished love and reassurance upon him, and told him about their babe. How could she do otherwise? Had she been wrong to not tell him the moment she had known, or even suspected? From the first moment she had not entirely felt herself, from the very first faint tinglings and flutterings of something inside her - should she have summoned him? Had she been wrong to keep the secret?

Jasper had reassured her that she had not been. She had been so distraught and confused that speaking with Logan at that point would have only hurt them both. Her old friend had also suggested that Logan may be pleased by the news, and if that were true, then her doubts and hysterics would only have added to his current burdens and sufferings.

But now she was ready. She was not only ready to be whatever sort of Hero she would need to be, but ready to truly be a woman grown and matured. A woman ready to stand by, unconditionally love, and bear the child of the man she loved. Whatever Choices lay ahead they would face them together. And when they were physically apart they would still be together in spirit and blood. The Princess was unendingly grateful that Logan held such vast magical knowledge. She was the Hero, but her complete dearth of any magical arts other than those in her blood was counterbalanced by Logan.

Still, at times she felt oddly empty. Logan was not injured or in danger; she could sense as much. But knowing how he was faring was not the same as having him by her side. And, by the hells, when all of this ... whatever it was, precisely, ended for good or for ill, nobody or nothing would ever separate them again. Not if she had any say in the matter.

Annika pulled the blankets over her shift-clad body and kept her eyes closed. He would come to her soon, she just had to be patient.

* * *

><p>Comfort, peace, warmth, and the unmistakable scent of her lover cradled her in a rainbow stream of tranquillity. Everything would be all right. He was here. His firm and heated chest pressed against her back and his strong arms held her possessively and protectively. One arm was slipped beneath her neck and curled back over her shoulder and his other rested upon her belly.<p>

"Annika," he breathed against her ear as she slowly wakened. "My love, my heart, my most treasured one ... I am here."

Vague disturbing dreams of water, sand, blood, menacing and watchful eyes all dispersed like dew in bright sunlight by the low voice that whispered to her with loving reverence.

When the final vestiges of sleep reluctantly released their hold on her she sighed in relief.

"I need you, Logan. I need you so much."

His arms tightened around her and his breath whispered hotly against her neck. "And I need you to need me."

Annika was loathe to move from his embrace, for it was deliciously loving and completely naked, but she wanted to into his eyes. Gently she dislodged his arms and turned to face him. She cradled his face between her palms and gazed into his face. His visage morphed from pleased to curious. Then, as she continued to gaze at him, fine lines emerged around his eyes and mouth. His breathing quickened and he turned his face to kiss her palm. The kiss was tender and soft, but there was something besides love and affection in it.

"Logan, are you distressed? If it is because I am staring at you, please forgive me. I fret for you every moment. You bear more burdens than any man should. You are bearing the weight of a nation, and now I summon you for purely selfish reasons." She hesitated, then added, "Well, almost all of my reasons are selfish. Some are selfless, as more of them should be for you, my love."

It was her turn to look away. As imperative as it was for her to tell him of their babe and reassure him of her devotion before setting sail, she wanted him to lavish his love upon her. She craved his assurances, emotional and physical, as desperately as he needed to know the truth of her ... condition.

A small smile was her reward as he sat up. When she attempted to do the same he shook his head and gently pushed her back onto the bed. One hand caressingly slid into her sleep-mussed hair and the other between her breasts.

"Can you make me a Promise?" he whispered, now sliding his hand over her left breast. The gesture did not feel erotic or arousing to Annika, but as if he were preparing to either receive or not receive an oath.

"I already have," she replied, covering his hand. She felt his lean fingers twitch. His eyes glittered with an emotion she could not decipher. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"I know. But this is ... different." He opened his eyes again.

Did she see the beginnings of tears?

"This is very different, my Annika." His tone was now bordering on beseeching, barely holding it at bay, but underlying fear was unmistakable.

"Logan, stop," she said firmly. "There is no need for you to fear losing my love or my regard. I have sworn myself to you in every way and that will not change."

And then she realised the unendurable. How had it not occurred to her before? _She_ was the one who should fear losing _him!_ She had conceived a child without his consent. She had refrained from going to him for help and instead turned to Reaver; the worst possible human being, if human he was. They both knew that she must travel her Path her own way, but she had involved herself with the true tyrant of Albion the same as Logan had. Silently and with infinite patience, Reaver had allowed their desperation to do his work for him. But that was one of his ways of rising to ever more wealth and power, wasn't it?

She had been beyond distraught when she had discovered just how insidiously the Deviant had intertwined himself with Albion's king. And now she had done the same thing.

Oh yes, their motives were good, but both she and Logan had made numerous Choices without consulting, and sometimes even considering, each other. And every Choice only made their problems and their future more difficult and uncertain.

Logan had Albion to consider, and although she did as well, she still primarily thought of herself as loyal to Logan. Logan the king, yes, but even more so to Logan the Man. No, not so much the king, she reminded herself once more, but the man, Logan. _Her _Logan.

"I ... I will promise you anything you desire, Logan," she blurted out before she even realised she was speaking. "Anything! But please promise me something in return!"

His eyes widened and he sucked in an uneven breath. "My Annika, you needn't..."

"But I do!" she cried out, realising for the first time that she could lose him forever. Primal panic raged through her veins, blurring her vision and buzzing in her ears. For the first time since their Bond she truly understood how Logan could continuously fear the very same things she was now. She had always thought his worries unfounded and likely stemmed from the terrible stress he faced every day. But now she knew better.

"Logan, I have made decisions without you! I am to blame for something so great and wonderful, yet so ... powerful, that it will change our lives forever." Hot tears weighed heavily on her lashes, threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Her voice began to waver as she rushed on.

"I love you so much that I could not live without you!" That was the raw truth. Visions of a life without him had never entered her mind. But now she knew that she would rather see her life ended than be without him and his love.

But the babe... Oh, gods! What about the babe? She began to struggle to sit up. She had to tell him everything right now. She could wait no longer!

He was suddenly looming over her, his hands bearing down on her wrists to hold her still.

"Annika, be silent and hear me!"

His voice barely sliced through her own racing chaotic thoughts, but she discerned the command above the desperation and fell silent. Her chest heaved with the effort to calm herself and listen to him.

"Annika," he began, voice wavering yet steady with conviction, "it seems we both have grave concerns."

She nodded, her breathing still ragged. Logan loosened his hold on her wrists only a little, plainly unconvinced that her hysterics were over.

"Please, not a single word until I am finished."

She nodded again.

"You have always admitted that you are a selfish creature, my love, but I am equally so. As a king and as a man I have found that making choices for others comes only too easily to me sometimes." He paused and swallowed thickly. His eyes misted but some of the lines around them relaxed. "I do not mean to say that I am unfeeling or uncaring, just that I have become accustomed to being the one who has to make as many small decisions as large and life changing or ... life ending ones."

Logan now released Annika's wrists but she did not move. His every word was important and carefully chosen and she sensed that he was about to reveal his greatest fear to her. Her breathing came easier now, but she was still afraid. Her wildly pounding heart was testament to that. How had she gone from so calm and serene to completely panic-stricken in mere moments? Her brain was muddled and clouded, but Logan was clearing its fog for her. Or so she hoped.

"You say you have made decisions. So have I." He paused for several long moments. Was the rapid rising and falling of his chest equal to her own?

"I, with full knowledge of every possible implication I could imagine, made a ... Choice. It was the most selfish and dangerous Choice I have ever made, Annika. Not only dangerous for myself and my pathetic heart and soul, but for you."

Logan's eyes were upon her, but there was a dread in them that frightened her.

"I should look you in your eyes as I say this, Annika, but I am too much of a coward."

With that he shifted position to lay his head between her breasts. He lay one hand on her belly and it was so warm that she felt its heat push its way completely through her shift.

Annika began to stroke his hair, silently reassuring him that he could speak on. Frigid fear had taken root and its stemming vine to twine around her heart, but before it could take firm hold it loosened. A little. Something in Logan's manner, his very emotions, was beginning to soothe her. Their Bond allowed them to experience the emotions of the other, but when consciously closed they could not. And Logan had said he was afraid.

But so was she. Had they, either consciously or unconsciously, closed their hearts to each other to protect secrets that should never have been concealed?

"My love, my darling Annika, I have placed you in great jeopardy." He paused, but when she continued to stroke his hair he slowly and softly continued. "I have made love to you, not only to express my love, but with the strong desire to ... implant what I could of myself within you. I hoped that my own Will would be sufficient to overcome any resistance you may have had against ... bearing our child."

Annika's heart continued to race and cold perspiration sheened her body, but her vision began to clear and the buzzing in her ears ceased.

Calm, in small measures, began to dose her with comfort and understanding. And, as a woman, she understood him completely.

"You want something of our love to be made manifest," she whispered in wonder and relief, despite his not having released her from her vow of silence. "You want there to be something of us both when we have left this physical world. And ... you want something made from both of us that we can love and nurture, care for and live for once all of this is over. You want a babe."

His face, gaunt and pale as usual, lit with a new beauty that astounded Annika. Her understanding made him happy? Relieved? Was this what had been troubling him so? And here she had been fearing that she had been the only one to perhaps, unconscious as it may have been, open herself to carrying new life within her. Life made from, hopefully, the best of them.

She pulled his body atop hers and held him tightly. He sagged upon her and trembled violently. His arms circled her waist uncomfortably but she did not care. Logan rained kisses upon her breasts, midriff, and belly.

"You understand? You forgive me? You forgive me for desiring to overcome your own feelings?" he whispered frantically, continuing to pepper her with kisses and the salt of freshly shed tears.

"Yes, Logan!" she moaned, happy beyond measure. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held his head to her, encouraging his continuous kisses. "A little while ago I suspected, then shortly after knew for certain, that I was carrying our babe. I did not tell you at once, and I feared that when I did that you would be angry! I feared that I could lose you! I did not know what to think or feel, you see, and I was afraid."

Logan pulled his hands from beneath her body to tug impatiently at her shift. She almost giggled in delight. He was most definitely returning to himself!

"All you need to be afraid of is my tearing this thing to shreds if you don't remove it at once."

She sat up and he tugged it over her head and tossed it aside.

"You do know that I am going to ravish you senseless, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"You had better," she sighed and lay on her back, shimming a bit to make her ample breasts jiggle temptingly. "I was so hoping you would! And don't fear for the babe. There is no chance of harm."

"Do they ache at all?"

She knew what he meant. "My breasts? No. But I want them to," she purred. "Kiss them, suckle them, and maul them at your leisure. And ... " She hesitated, uncharacteristically shy.

"Make your nipples so sore that you'll feel them for days?" he teased.

"Ah, you remember what I like!" Her face was heated but Logan was plainly pleased.

"Always," he groaned, bending down to nuzzle his face between her mounds for a few moments. Then he drew back, appearing thoughtful. "My Annika, spread your legs. I want to see where our babe entered you. Not to fear, however. I'll give the rest of you enough attention for you to remember for weeks."

She obeyed and he bent very close, caressing and slowly parting her outer lips with his calloused thumbs. She moaned when he breathed hotly on her moist centre.

He began with a long slow lick at the bottom of her pink folds and ended just above her now throbbing pearl. "Yes," he said slowly and with obvious approval. "You are the only woman, Annika, who I will ever love. You are the only woman I would also love in this way. And you are the only woman who is worthy of carrying my son or daughter."

She had never thought of that. Logan was nearing thirty years of age. Many men, especially kings, would have had at least several children by now, illegitimate or not.

But Logan had not. Perhaps he had not realised it before, but he had been waiting for her to reach adulthood. He had been waiting for her, for his true love and one woman he would ever give and share a child with.

Despite the timing, Annika was touched, humbled, and honoured. This may not have been the best time, but perhaps, she now thought, perhaps it was the perfect time. After all, this time, above all others so far, was the most crucial and uncertain. Their love and their babe would keep them as steady and determined as possible. They needed that. Badly.

And ... _ooh! _Logan had licked her slowly and broadly once more. She needed this badly, too!

He chuckled while she gasped and arched her back. He seized her hips and began to love her with his mouth in earnest. Tongue laving, swirling, teasing, and snaking all about her increasingly sensitive flesh would surely drive her out of her mind!

His finger entering her passage while his teeth nipped her slick stiff bud had her convulsing in bliss she had nearly forgotten.

"Those cries," he murmured into her flesh, "how I've missed them!"

And how she had missed making them!

She had not yet descended from her peak of bliss when Logan turned her onto her belly and was pulling her hips up.

"On your elbows and knees, and head down," he instructed. "I want to love you fast and hard. Then later, I'll love you so slowly and maddeningly that you'll scream for me."

She had no doubt about that! He slid into her easily and she could swear he was thicker and longer than ever. She happily groaned and sighed into the mattress while he held her hips firmly and slammed into her just the way she liked. His belly and sac slapped her rear as he thrust in and out, in and out, in and out... Annika lost track of time. Logan was able to go on forever, it seemed, and it was perfect.

Gods, how long later was it? she was reaching her peak once more! She involuntarily stiffened in climax and gasped out guttural cries. When she collapsed onto her belly Logan lay atop her and slid his hands beneath her and cupped her breasts.

"I've been ... ah ... practising how to prolong my own release, my Annika."

"I've no complaints," she whispered, utterly spent.

He chuckled again and kissed the back of her neck. His fingers moved to her nipples and began to pinch them, first lightly, and then more roughly.

Annika gasped at the pain-pleasure and he licked her earlobe.

"Keep the rest of your secrets while I keep mine," he said hoarsely. "At least for now. But if you think I'll allow you and our babe to come to harm even overseas you are quite mistaken."

He twisted and plucked at her now sore nipples. "For now, however, just _feel. _I'm not nearly done with you yet."

"Thank the gods," she moaned.

"No, thank our own incredible stamina," he said with pride and more than a hint a smugness. "Well, add that to our unabashed love of physical pleasure and I think you can see where the credit lies."

"At the moment I'll concede that it lies mainly with you," she replied saucily.

Another tweaking at her nipples and he was sliding into her from behind once more. At her resulting breathy gasp he grasped her breasts fully in his hands and squeezed.

"Are you certain?" he asked her, voice laden with possessiveness.

"Absolutely," she sighed. "You win this round, Logan-mine."

"I think that we both win," he amended.

Neither would think on her impending journey. Not yet.


End file.
